Looking Down
by Sanorace
Summary: The day of the wedding, Sam almost committed murder. The night of the wedding, Sam couldn't bring himself to touch his new wife. But something other than guilt is stopping him. A buried trauma bars him from giving Sybil the intimacy she deserves.
1. Chapter 1

The day of the wedding, Sam almost committed murder. The night of the wedding, Sam couldn't bring himself to touch his new wife. But something other than guilt is stopping him. A buried trauma bars him from giving Sybil the intimacy she deserves.

Vimes sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor. He had tried to drive away the fear and the horrible images in his head. Normally he could push past fear. It was something a watchman had to be good at, but this was different. Sybil lay on the bed with her blouse open watching her new husband cautiously.

_Have I done something wrong? _Sybil thought._ I know tacky romance novels are labeled fiction for a reason, but I wasn't even going to try any of that, at least not the first time that is._

She had thought it was cute when Sam insisted on celibacy before marriage. It was the kind of romantic gesture that she had always wanted, but now she worried that it might have been more than just cold feet.

"Just lie down," said Sybil. "We don't need to do anything tonight. We'll have loads of other chances now that we're married." She tried to smile to put him at ease, but she was so concerned and the smile wouldn't come.

Sam was shaking, and not in the nervous virgin kind of way. Sybil knew that her husband had at least two partners before her. He squeezed his eyes shut and clutched the bedclothes.

"I'm sorry," Sam whispered. "I… I'm sorry." He rose from the bed and walked toward the door. His steps were short and deliberate. His whole body looked as if the only thing he wanted was to curl up in a little ball. This is impossible while standing, but Sam gave it a good effort.

"Sam…" Sybil moved to stand up. Samuel froze for a moment before rushing out of the room.

Sybil clamored out of the bed and ran after him. She glanced up and down the hallway. The door to the Tan Office was open. She hesitated before she crept silently through the hallway. Even before she reached the door, she could hear the sound of her husband's irregular breathing. Sybil paused at the threshold. She wanted to enter, to comfort him, and to hold him until his pain went away, but something made her hesitate.

Even though the door was open, she gently knocked on the door frame. She heard Sam gasp. His breathing became shallow and rapid. Sybil could see a sliver of her new husband's face in the opening where the door was attached to the wall. She sat down outside and leaned against the wall. She waited for his breathing to even out.

"Sam," she whispered. The word was so quiet that for a moment she didn't know if he had heard it.

"I'm sorry," he said in a voice equally hushed. "I'm sorry."

Sybil didn't ask what he was sorry for. At this moment, it didn't matter. She only wanted her husband to calm down. It was time to employ her own version of 'act now, ask questions later.'

"I… I'm sorry too… I didn't know it would affect you like this… I… I should have paid better attention."

Behind the door, Sam choked. He slammed his fist on the door shutting it loudly. Sybil winced at the sudden noise. She could hear Sam sobbing.

"I…"

"Just go away," he shouted, but the sound was muffled.

Sybil tried to remember what was in the Tan Office. It wasn't a room she normally used, but there shouldn't be anything particularly sharp in there. She weighted her options and decided to trust her husband for a few minutes. She got up and walked back to the bedroom. She picked up a blanket and pillow off the bed and returned to the hallway. As she approached the door, Sam's crying abruptly stopped and returned to the same shallow breathing as before. Sybil laid the blanket and pillow on the floor outside the office and sat down again. She sighed and crawled under the covers determined to sleep there the whole night if she had to.

"You don't have to do that, Sybil," said Sam.

"I want to."

Sam went silent. Every so often, Sybil could hear his breath catch. She placed her hand on the door. It made a tiny click as the lock shifted in its enclosure. She didn't have to ask, the soft sound did the talking for her.

The door opened a fraction. Sybil nudged it a bit further. The lamps in the hall sent a streak of light across the Tan Office.

She waited for a moment before pushing the door open a little bit more until she could see her husband again through the crack at the hinges. Sam was breathing normally now. It was a good sign but Sybil still felt the need to hold back the urge to run to him. It was agonizing.

"I'll… go get you a blanket. I'll be right back."

She tottered off down the hall. Hundreds of horrible images flashed through her head.

_Why? He's always so brave. What could have happened to make him react this way?_

When Sybil returned, she noticed a small quivering light in the Tan Office. Her first thought was that he had lit a cigar, but as she got closer she noticed the scent of wax. Sybil smiled sadly, sat down by the door again, and waited. She heard her husband move on the floor on the other side of the door. His fingers slid into view. They were shaking.

"Could…I…" he whispered uncertainly.

Sybil handed him the edge of the blanket before Sam had a chance to have second thoughts. The fabric slowly disappeared into the barely lit room. The door opened with the pressure of the moving blanket. She watched Sam for a moment. He had left the blanket on the floor, but still held on to it with one hand. He was staring at it with unseeing eyes.

Sybil could barely stand it anymore.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

Sam nodded almost imperceptibly. Sybil's heart snapped. She hurried into the room and held her husband tightly as if he was the only thing stopping her from disappearing. Silently, she began to cry. She could feel Sam tense up. For a moment she thought he was going to run again. He didn't relax or even hug her back. He simply put his head on her shoulder. Before long, she felt a trickle of water on her collar.

Sybil pulled a piece of the blanket onto Sam's shoulder. His breathing stopped and he forcefully pulled it back down again. His head hadn't moved but she could tell he was debating running away. His body had frozen even stiffer than before.

_He's scared. Something has frightened him more than death_.

She stayed completely still and kept calm. Though her heart raced in a desperate wish, she acted just the same way as she had before she moved the blanket. Slowly, she felt the weight of Sam's head return to her shoulder. Sybil's arm was falling asleep but she didn't care. She would stay in that position forever if it meant he would feel safe.

* * *

Sybil awoke in the early morning. Stars still glittered in the sky valiantly constructing defenses against the inevitable attack from the overly cheerful armies of dawn.

Sam was gone.

Sybil started to panic as troubling thoughts surfaced in her mind. She paused. The pale early morning light glinted off a metal object on the desk. Sybil guessed what it was even before she picked it up. Sam had left his badge with her. She held it firmly in both hands.

She searched the desk for a note, anything that could tell her where he had gone, but there was nothing.

She brought the badge with her to the window and examined it. The number 177 was engraved on the back. It truly was his. Sybil looked out at the city. The people had finished their late night activities and only a few exceptionally eager tradesmen had started their day.

"Does this mean he'll come back, or is it some sort of farewell gift?" Sybil stood and stared at the token her husband had left her. "This badge means everything to Sam. He wouldn't leave it here if he just wanted to skip town. He can't just stop being a watchman. It's part of who he is. He would rather die than…"

She couldn't even finish the sentence. She ran down the hallway fighting the fear that was slowly consuming her. When she reached the door, she suddenly remembered what she was wearing, or rather not wearing. Sybil dashed back up to the bedroom. By the time she was dressed, Willikins had appeared, disheveled in his nightshirt.

"Is something the matter, Lady Sybil?" he asked still shaking off the haze of an interrupted night's sleep. When he saw Sybil's face, he immediately sprang to attention.

"Sam's gone!" she said. "If he's not at the Watch House, then I'm sure something horrible has happened. Help me with the carriage."

* * *

Sybil burst through the doors of Pseudopolis Yard. An unlucky Sergeant Colon was on duty. He froze in his seat and glanced around furtively. Sybil dropped her hands on the desk with an audible thud and glared a Colon with the ferocity of a hyena.

"Where's Sam?" she said in the same tone of voice that Vimes used when interrogating particularly belligerent suspects.

"I… uh, he… went on patrol?" Colon said hopefully.

Sybil leaned over the desk and grabbed Sergeant Colon by his collar.

"You damn well better tell me now or I'm calling my dragons. Madame Philomena Piffyphelps has had quite a trying week and she tends to get aggressive with strangers."

"HewentupstairswithKnobby! Don'thurtmeplease!"

Sybil climbed the stairs with purpose. She spotted a very unfortunate Knobby Knobbs in the hallway and came down on him like a two ton griffon. Knobby squeaked and tried to run away but Sybil caught him.

"Where is he?" She whispered slowly in his ear. The sound sent shivers down his spine as if they had been spoken by the Patrician himself. He pointed to a door two rooms away and disappeared down the steps.

Sybil knocked on the door lightly. There was no answer. She slowly turned the handle and pushed the door open a crack. A man lay on a bunk on the far side of the room. Though he faced the wall, she could tell it was Sam. The room rank of alcohol.

Sybil sighed with relief. He was alive, drunk off his arse by the smell of it, but alive. She wanted to sit by his bed and be there when he woke up. She wanted to hold him and tell him to come back home. She wanted to hug him and never let go, but she didn't. With great reluctance, she shut the door.

Sybil leaned her back against the wall until her heart rate returned to normal. A sudden bubble of anger swelled up inside her. She wanted to yell at him for making her worry and for breaking his promise, but she knew this was probably the _worst_ time to do that.

She swallowed a lump in her throat and forced herself to go downstairs. Colon and Knobby were gone. Sybil sat in the chair behind the desk and glared at the ceiling. She took out Sam's badge and held it in her hands. Her chest hurt so much. Sam was suffering and there was very little she could do about it, but that feeling of utter uselessness was swept to the side by red frustration. This whole situation had played upon her nerves and now she was angry. Her head was full of questions and Sam had kept her in the dark for too long.

"I'm not going to take this anymore. Kindness can only go so far."

She abruptly stood up and stomped outside. Willikins had stayed with the carriage. He looked up when he heard her coming, but looked away when he saw her face. Whether Sam was in the Watch House or not didn't matter right now. The expression on her face clearly communicated that she was not in the mood to talk about it.

* * *

Sybil was in the bedroom. From the crack under the door she could see the shadows of Sam's feet shuffle back and forth in the hallway. Part of her was overjoyed that Sam was feeling guilty about what he had done. The rest of her wanted nothing more than to strangle him. She waited impatiently.

There was a tentative knock on the door.

"Come in," said Sybil dryly.

Sam sat down in a chair opposite his wife. Her face was unreadable.

"Samuel, you owe me an explanation."

Sam stared at the wall a few inches above her head and remained silent. Sybil stood up and leaned in close to her husband.

"Don't you _dare_ treat me like the Patrician!" said Sybil.

Sam didn't answer. He looked through her. His mind was in an entirely different place. Maybe it was trying not to exist. Sybil scowled and headed for the door. She heard Sam's breath stop behind her.

"No," he said and grabbed the back of her shirt. He immediately let go as if the fabric was on fire. He even rubbed his hand like he had been burnt. He looked at the floor. "I'll do it. I'll do what you want."

Sybil stared as the frightened man in front of her walked towards the bed like a prisoner to the gallows. He removed his watchman's armor and boots. There were buttons on his shirt but he was shaking too much to undo them.

Sybil placed a hand on his. Sam wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Come with me," she said.

She led Sam into the Tan Office and instructed him to sit behind the door where he was last night. He seemed to relax a little now that they were out of the bedroom. Even though sunlight was shining through the window, Sybil lit a candle and placed it where it had been before. She sat down beside her husband.

"Tell me," she said. "How many partners have you really had?"

"Four and a half."

"Half?

"I found out she was a man the hard way."

"You told me you had a girlfriend when you were sixteen."

"It didn't last. We were both still children. It was right before May."

"The other one, you were twenty-two, you said."

"She was amazing… but it didn't work out."

"How?"

"I'd rather not say."

She waited. She didn't need to prompt him.

"She was thin and sickly. Each time I was with her, I feared I would break her."

"And?"

"I had been a watchman for years by then. I didn't survive that long by being gentle." Sam's voice came out in a low monotone like someone delivering a report. "She would do things, little things that got on my nerves. I was angry at her but I held it inside. I knew what I could do to people when I get lost my temper." He paused and stared at the candle for a moment. "One day, it all just became too much. I… I hurt her badly. She left. I didn't try to stop her. She deserved better."

Sam sat up straight. He stared at the wall with the eyes of an officer.

"The third… she…"

Sam's fortitude shattered. He hugged his knees and swallowed hard trying not to cry. Sybil took hold of his hand and rubbed her thumb against his palm.

"I was walking home. There was a group of men… and… a woman… I was terrified. I felt naked without my uniform and equipment… I ran. I left her there with them." Sam's voice became a tiny whisper. "I let her die. I killed her."

Sam choked and started to cry again. He took gasping breaths, trying to calm himself. He squeezed Sybil's hand. It hurt but she didn't care.

"The woman's sister found me later. She said I was a monster. She said I was just like them. I could have attacked those men, given her time to escape, but I was a coward! She… showed me what her sister felt like in her last moments. She did those things to me that her sister had to endure. I let her. It was what I deserved."

Sam sobbed. He couldn't speak anymore and could barely breathe. He hugged Sybil with all of his considerable strength. She let him crush her for a moment before speaking up.

"You're not going to drown or anything. I'm right here. Let me hold you instead."

Sam instantly let go of her and scrabbled away horrified at what he had done.

"I… I'm sorry! I won't do it again," he said and pulled his knees up to his chest with his back to her.

Sybil made a split second decision which in the long run probably wasn't the smartest thing to do but she was sick of being patient. It was a risky move that could leave a lasting mark on their relationship if it went poorly. Sybil crawled up behind Sam and grabbed him roughly in a backwards bear hug that pinned his arms to his sides. Sam kicked and pushed out on her arms trying to break her ridged grasp. He shoved his head backwards into where a normal attacker's nose would be, but Sybil had been ready for that. She had bent her neck to one side and placed the blanket between them just in case. Sam bucked in an attempt to break her hold but Sybil resolutely clung to him.

Sam suddenly froze. His chest constricted and he let out a pained whine.

"I can't take it anymore!" he shouted. "Why are you doing this? It hurts!" Sybil kept her grip firm. "Stop it! Just go! It hurts!"

"No! I'm staying right here!" Sybil shouted with equal conviction. "You're _not_ getting away!"

"Why me? You're rich! You could have chosen anyone!"

"I want you!"

"Please," he sobbed loudly. Each breath fought against him. "I can't take it!"

Sam whimpered in agony. His whole body convulsed as he pushed against her arms halfheartedly. He hunched his shoulders and leaned forward grasping his stomach and screaming.

Sybil did not let go. Sam could shout all he wanted but she was going to hang onto him until he calmed down. So far he hadn't hurt her.

That was where the risk lay. Sybil knew that if he struck her at this time, then she would have to leave him. She was well aware that Samuel was a violently dangerous man who had nearly murdered a man on their wedding day. If he could not distinguish her from a foe at a time like this, then she could not be near him. If he hit her out of fear and desperation, then she would not be able to let him close to her at the times when she would be vulnerable, at those times when she would need him most.

Sybil's arms were ready to fall apart by the time He relaxed enough for her to let him go.

Sam had not attacked her.

She rubbed her aching arms and stared at her husband accusingly. He was panting heavily and had snot coming out of his nose like a child. He sat looking at the floor blankly. Sybil grabbed the blanket and pillow she had left there that night. She lay down on her side so her stomach touched Sam's back and bent her knees. She curled herself around her husband in the same kind of horseshoe shape that a cat makes. Sam oozed from his sitting position to the floor. He let his body follow the mold Sybil had made for him like a set of spoons in a drawer. Sybil wrapped her arms around him gently. Sam's eyes glossed over. His body was completely limp. Someone else might have said he looked relaxed. Sybil knew better. She had all but fallen asleep when she heard a faint whisper from Sam. It was little more than a wheeze, but she listened nonetheless.

"I'm sorry…"

Sybil nuzzled the back of his neck.

"Thank you." She didn't say what she was thankful for. She wanted Sam to find that out for himself.

"It hurts…"

"I'm still not letting you go."

They both lay in silence for a few minutes.

"I have to pee," said Sam.

Sybil chuckled and squeezed his stomach.

"Hey! Don't—"

Sam scrambled out of her arms and bolted out of the room. She could hear him retching even from three rooms away. She chuckled and let her husband suffer his comeuppance.

* * *

Sam avoided her afterwards for a few hours while he tried to get over the effects of the hangover. He looked so sullen and wouldn't meet her eye. At first she gave him his space, but it was well into the afternoon and the subject of sleeping needed to be broached. Surprisingly, Sam came to her first.

"Sybil," he whispered. She could tell he was desperately trying to keep his voice level. "I… I'll…" He stammered then squared his jaw resolutely. He stood straight and became Samuel Vimes Captain of the Watch. "There is someone I must speak to first."

Sybil narrowed her eyes at him, but Captain Vimes was a man who could stare down the Patrician. Captain Vimes would not be dissuaded.

"I will not be visiting Mr. Bearhuggers."

Sybil sighed. _Of course not. Watchmen aren't allowed to drink on the job._

"You don't want to barge in unannounced. Are you sure they won't be occupied?"

"I am completely positive that he won't be bothered by my visit."

"Will you be back?"

Captain Vimes began to melt away leaving Sam vulnerable. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes in an attempt to hold on to his stronger self.

"One hour… just one."

Sybil nodded. Sam walked unsteadily to the door, ran the last few feet, and escaped. He would run through the familiar cobbled streets and lose himself in the speed and adrenaline. He would run from his thoughts and fears. He would run until his legs collapsed and his breath lay stale. Captain Vimes had always been the one who chased the guilty. Tonight, Sam was the guilty one. Tonight, the watchman chased himself.

He ran to the Graveyard of the Small Gods, back in time to the man who shaped so much of him.

* * *

The hour passed. Sybil opened the front door to find Sam sitting on the steps.

"May I come in?" he asked softly.

Sybil pulled him inside and hugged him tightly.

"Always."


	2. Chapter 2

Sybil sat down next to Sam on the edge of the bed.

"Tell me how it should have gone. Teach me how I should touch you when you are at your weakest. Show me what I can do that won't scare you. I have to know. I want to know so badly that I'll stop if you tell me you can't continue. Even if I'm so close, even if every part of my body wants to keep going, I'll stop. I just want to learn who you are, even if it's just a little bit."

"Do… do you mean that?" Sam asked anxiously.

"Yes."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

"Don't hurt me…"

She smiled. _I'm completely alone with a man who can kill someone with his bare hands, and he asks me to not hurt him?_

Sybil picked up Sam's hand. She touched his palms and traced the bones in his fingers. She turned it over and felt the texture of his worn knuckles.

"What are you doing? I have rough hands. So what? It's an occupational hazard." he said defensively.

"I'm memorizing you."

Sam seemed to take offence to that, but didn't say anything.

Sybil's fingers followed the underside of Sam's wrist to the crook of his elbow in a casual meandering pace. It was strange. A touch that wasn't particularly sexual had sent him shivering again. She stopped. Sam hadn't said anything, but he was reacting to everything she did. None of her other partners had ever acted like this especially not to something so simple. She had only wanted to pinpoint his ticklish spots first so that she could avoid them… or exploit them later on.

Sam's tension spoke volumes. His arm wasn't sensitive or somehow a secret place he didn't want anyone to touch. He was reacting so strongly, because he was paying fearful attention to every single move she was making as if she was going to suddenly dig her nails into his skin.

_What the hell did that woman do to him?_

She moved her hand to the outside of his arm. Sybil was very ticklish on her sides and armpits. She decided that maybe those areas should be avoided right now.

"Just stop it," Sam whispered. "You don't have to… I was drinking and I shouldn't have and… I yelled at you and I ran away… I'm sorry."

"Thank you for being honest. I'm not mad. I was before, but not now."

Sybil slid her palm back to Sam's hand. She felt along its outline, tracing the space between his fingers.

"I'm… I'm all dirty. I haven't washed my hands," he said. It wasn't just an excuse. It was a desperate plea. Sybil played along. She wasn't going to argue with him about something so trivial, and he did stink from all that exertion.

"You're right," she nodded. "Your nails are filthy too."

Comforted by her agreement, Sam relaxed a bit. Even though she had just insulted him, it was nice to know she agreed with his own self-assessment. It had been a subtle lighthearted insult that reinforced his need to be the person who knew himself the most. Somehow it gave him power. Humans are strange like that.

"Er… I should probably shave too," he said.

"Don't worry, I'll wait."

Sybil watched her husband leave the room. It was obvious he was trying to stop himself from running. She shook her head.

_This is going to take longer than I thought._

* * *

Sam had insisted he should wash his hair too and brush his teeth and if he was going to do all that he might as well take a bath. That was all fine. Sybil had a few time sensitive thank you letters she needed to write and it wouldn't take any longer than Sam's bath. She finished those and had moved on to the less important notes, but she had been working for an additional half hour and he still hadn't come out.

Sybil leaned on the wall outside the bathroom.

"Sam, you're going to have to come out of there eventually."

"I am, I just…"

"Oh stop this. You chase down criminals on a daily basis yet you're hiding from a middle aged woman. I couldn't hurt you even if I tried."

"You have a mean right hook."

"Yes I'm quite proud of that, but the thing is that you already know about it. I can't use that against you because you'll be expecting it. I guess I could have a dagger in my pocket. That might catch you off guard."

"You're not helping, Sybil."

"What I'm trying to say is that even if I try anything on you, you've been trained to handle that. As a bonus, if I attack you first then anything you do afterwards would fall under self-defense. You could probably get away with murdering me that way, unless I strike a killing blow straight away."

The door opened forcefully. Sam stepped out wearing a robe.

"Don't even talk like that! I'm not fighting you!"

Sybil smiled at her husband. She took his hand.

"That's good, because I don't plan on dying either."

Sam looked at the floor with a grimace.

"No, that's not what I… Maybe it would be better if you did have a dagger," he mumbled.

Sybil tried not to laugh.

"I'm not really a dagger person myself."

Sam hesitated. His shoulders were still tense even after the calming bath. He slowly stepped to the bed and lay down on top of the sheets in a pose normally associated with funerals. Sybil followed him. She lay on her stomach and leaned on her elbows so she could see his face. She touched him gently on the cheek. He met her eyes with a completely blank expression.

She ran her fingers through his hair admiring the way it moved and felt. Sam relaxed a little at her kind touch. He closed his eyes. Sybil kept contact with his skin as she drew her fingers over his eyelids and to the edge of his mouth, below his lips and down to his chin. She traced his jaw line to his ear. Sam flinched. Sybil paused for a moment before sliding her fingers along the outside of his ear and down to his neck.

Sam gasped. His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist firmly. Sybil cringed at the sudden movement but Sam's grip was surprisingly gentle. She stared into his eyes and waited. Eventually, he let go.

"I'm sorry," he whispered and turned his head to give her better access. He was shivering and tense, eyes closed tightly. Sybil placed her palm on his cheek.

"Tell me," she said softly.

Sam covered his chest with his arms and shrugged his shoulders up to shield his neck. He couldn't look her in the eye.

"She… there was a rope…"

Sam turned on his side with his back to her. His body curled up.

Sybil placed her hand on his head. He scrunched into a tighter ball. Sybil didn't let go. She played idly with his hair until he calmed down and turned onto his back again. Sybil put her hand in his.

"Show me, so I'll know."

Sam stayed perfectly stiff as he brought her hand up to his neck. He guided her to a place where a faint scar had formed and held her hand there. She could feel his rapid pulse beneath the taught muscles and his lower jaw quivering slightly. Suddenly he pressed her hand more firmly against his neck and held it there tightly with his shoulders, chin, and both hands. His whole body shook and he choked back tears.

"She wrapped the rope around my neck so I couldn't breathe well. I… it felt…" He looked away from her embarrassed. "But, it hurt too. If I fought against her, she would pull on it and choke me until I could barely see."

_What kind of sick twisted woman would do that? No wonder he didn't want me to touch him there._

She withheld her opinions. Sam knew what had been done to him was wrong. He didn't need her to remind him about it.

It seemed like decades before Sam relaxed. He removed his hand and dropped his shoulder so she wasn't trapped anymore. She kept her hand right where Sam had put it and gently moved just her fingers. His breath quickened but he didn't stop her. She moved upward cradling his chin in her hand. He adjusted his head to let her touch the other side. From there, she could put her whole hand and wrist across his neck and glide her hand horizontally from ear to ear. Sam held his breath and allowed her to comfort him. A hint of a smile nudged his lips and was gone.

Sybil dipped her hand under his collar bone. Sam made a noise that could only be described as a single tick of a clock. She couldn't tell if this was a good noise or a bad noise, but she continued inch by inch. She followed his collar to the edge of his robe and paused. The question was clear even though she didn't voice it. Sam hesitated before he turned his shoulder to push the fabric over Sybil's fingers. She continued to follow the path of his collarbone until it met the top of his shoulder.

"Could you turn onto your stomach, Sam?"

He started shaking again. He recoiled from her touch and drew his robe firmly around his shoulders. Slowly he turned over but would not let her touch his skin directly. Sam swallowed and bent his arms under him as if they could somehow guard his heart. He started to cry as quietly as he could.

Sybil touched Sam in the same place she had been before. She spread out her hand on the part of his back where it met his neck and stopped. He unconsciously tried to squirm away from her, but managed to stay put long enough to become comfortable with her presence.

"Tell me." Sybil said softly.

Sam took a long calming breath that was entirely ineffectual.

"I was… She held… me down on my stomach. She put her foot there so I couldn't move while she locked… It was like a yolk… Kept me down… I couldn't…"

Suddenly, He went completely limp. Sybil fearfully waited a few seconds.

"Sam?"

She heard him quietly crying. It wasn't the violent wracking sobs from before, but a rhythmic sound of short low breaths.

"No… I… I can't take it… stop… please…"

Sybil removed her hand and watched her husband curl up with his back to her again. The sound of those staccato gasps tore at her heart. She wanted so badly to comfort him, but she knew he would only push her away at a time like this.

Sybil decided that Sam needed to be left alone for a while, but she didn't have the courage to just leave him there in that state. She looked at the bathroom door and chose to do exactly what her husband had done. A warm bath sounded like heaven right now.


	3. Chapter 3

There was a tentative knock on the bathroom door.

"Yes?"

No one answered. She waited for a few minutes.

"Sam, what is it?" she asked in the same voice that a sales clerk would use on a customer who had asked the same question three times.

"Can I… Could I maybe…"

Sybil chuckled silently. She felt rather privileged. _He wouldn't talk like that anywhere else even if his life depended on it._

"You can come in, Sam." She said lovingly.

The door opened up a crack. Sam looked at her reflection in the mirror bashfully.

_My gods, he looks like a puppy._

Sybil had just put shampoo in her hair. It was disheveled and full of suds. She turned over in the tub and laid her arm along the edge. She rested her head on it and looked at him interested. He looked at the floor.

"I want… to see you," he stammered.

Sybil pretended to think about it for a while. "Yes, I think that should be fine."

He walked in with the kind of nonchalance of someone desperately trying to look natural.

"Come and sit down," said Sybil.

She motioned to the low table beside her. It was meant to keep items in easy reaching distance for the person in the bath. Sam methodically placed each bottle on the floor individually taking little glances at her every time he straightened up.

_It's not like he hasn't seen me naked before, but I guess this is the first time he's been this close to me._

Sam finally sat down on the little side table and looked at his wife in the water. He stared at her with a blank face. Sybil started feeling self-conscious.

"Stop looking at me like I'm one of your corpses."

Sam's eyes widened a bit and he turned his head.

"Sorry. It's just that most naked women I see aren't…"

"In one piece?" Sybil prompted.

Sam grinned a bit. He was a man who saw horrible things every day. He was entitled to a bit of dark humor. He looked back at her with much softer eyes. His gaze landed on her legs just below the knees. He frowned. Sybil turned them away from him.

"What, so I've got a few burns, nothing wrong with that."

_Seriously, why can't he just stare at my breasts like everyone else?_

"You have them on your arms too," he said.

"They're from the dragons. Sometimes there's a little gap between the bottom of the apron and the top of the boots. It's the same with the gloves."

Sybil saw her husband's features move into an expression of faint concern.

"Can I touch them?"

"Sam, we're married, I'm lying here stark naked in a bathtub, and you're asking me if you could touch my knees? Of course you can."

He smiled a bit sheepishly and kneeled down by her feet.

_Damn it, why does he have to focus on the ugliest parts of me? What's he looking for?_

Sam's hand skated on the surface of the water until it touched her skin. His wet fingers spread out to explore every valley and ridge on the burns. It felt surprisingly good. He gently slid his hand off her skin and back into the water. He rose from the floor with a pained look on his face. Sybil pouted.

_He barely touched me, that bastard._

Her anger dripped away when she saw him shivering. He backed away towards the door.

"I… I'm just going to wait out here."

He closed his eyes and flitted out of the bathroom.

_What was that all about?_

* * *

Sybil put on a warm fuzzy robe and entered the bedroom. Sam was standing there with his back to her and his arms wound tightly around his stomach. She walked up next to him and shot him a quizzical glance. Sam was staring pointedly at the wall.

He reluctantly removed his arm from his right sleeve and let it drop exposing his back. Sybil tried to stifle her gasp but failed. A jagged burn mark started at his shoulder blade and plunged straight down past the fabric around his waist.

Sybil recoiled at the sight of it. Sam grimaced with shame and clutched the empty sleeve. He turned his head away from her. She rallied admirably.

"Should I…" Sybil asked.

Sam pulled the sleeve taught. "You don't ha—"

Sam clapped his hand over his mouth to stop himself from shouting. Sybil started to move her hand down his back following the rough path of the scar. Sam made a sound like a window being wiped clean. She slid her hand further. He curved his back to meet her touch like a cat. When she lifted her hand away, Sam started gasping for breath. Sybil smirked at his reaction.

"It's pretty in a way."

"That's a lie!" he shouted through his hands.

Sybil shrugged.

"Put it up to morbid curiosity, but I'd love to try that again."

"No!"

He hastily put his arm back in the sleeve and gripped his robe desperately. Sybil could see the dark horror in his eyes as he ran out of the room.

_I guess I took that too lightly._

Sybil opened the bedroom door. Sam was kneeling just outside with his body bent double. He had his head down to the floor with his hands on top like someone praying that the bombs would miss. Sybil sat down in front of him and waited.

"I can't." Sam whispered. "I can't let you touch it… I can't do it… I'm sorry…"

"It's okay."

"No, it's not okay! It shouldn't be like this. I'm your husband. You're supposed to be able to touch me. I should let you. It's part of the deal. I made a promise… I'm sorry."

"Marriage isn't some kind of treaty, Sam. Vows aren't terms of surrender like wars. You can always refuse my touch if that's what you want."

"No, I want you to touch me. I… no…"

Sybil lay down beside him in the hallway. She peered through a gap in his arms where she could see a bit of his face.

"Open your eyes, Sam."

He slowly complied. He saw her looking at him and cringed.

"All the blood is going to rush to your head if you sit like that too long," she said.

Sam unfolded to a sitting position. He looked down at Sybil blankly. She gave him a warm smile in return.

"How about I get dressed and we go get something to eat. It's too stuffy in this house. I really need to get out in the open air. Would you mind coming with me?"

"I… Where will you be going?"

"I'm not sure yet. I thought I'd walk around and eat wherever I like."

Sybil stood up and opened the door to the dressing room.

"Be ready in ten minutes."

Sam got off the floor and reality washed over him. The darkness retreated to its cage deep inside. Puzzled, he looked down at where he was just sitting. He wondered how the world had changed so much. It only took Sybil a minute to bring him out of his memories.

He looked at the closed door she had just gone through. She made it look so easy. It was just a smile…

She had taken him down to a state of crippling pain. If he had been alone, it would have taken him a whole night of drinking to recover from, yet she had done it in next to no time at all. She summoned the calming monotony of the here and now and it had worked.

Sam gave the floor one last glance before going to get dressed. He wondered how just a moment ago he had forgotten who he was. The darkness blinded him. It told him he was powerless when in reality he was strong. It was all an illusion.

Sybil could see through those illusions. She wasn't affected by the lies. She was perfect and against all rationality, she was Sybil Vimes.

Sometimes blessings hurt.

Sybil was well worth the pain.

* * *

This isn't the last chapter. It's just the last one that doesn't have an MA rating. The story is about sex and the need for trust in recovery. I cant just take out the sex from the next chapters. I have about six more chapters that I can't post here. I'm not sure where to post them or if I should even post them at all.


	4. Chapter 4

I'm hoping this doesn't violate and terms and conditions. Once again, no smut for you. I have a lemon version if you're that interested. I'm going to try to tone down the rest of the chapters if I can. I feel kind of mean treating Vimes so badly, but this fic is labeled 'Angst' for a reason.

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* * *

It was well into the afternoon when Sybil woke up. Sam had rolled over on his stomach one arm somehow still in his robe and the other one in hers.

_Well at least it's a start._

Sybil watched her husband's sleeping face. The lines from his normal angry expression were still there but only as wrinkles like the exact opposite of laugh lines. Under the skin, she could see the beautifully serene structure of a person sleeping more soundly than they had in years. Each muscle was relaxed, especially his jaw. His mouth hung wide open and emitted moderately soft guttural sounds.

She touched his cheek gently and kissed his forehead. Sam slept on. Sybil decided to press her luck. Face to face, she kissed his sleeping eyes. The skin there was soft and young. She could taste the salt on the inner corners of his eyes. She moved her lips down the side of his nose and to his mouth. Usually taught with a scowl, his lower lip was now calm and flexible. She kissed it gently and held it between her lips. She switched to his upper lip and gave him tiny kisses all along the top from corner to corner. It wasn't all that romantic since his breath smelled horrible and his mouth hung open at an odd angle, but still Sybil cherished the moment.

Sam's mouth began to close and Sybil pulled back just in case she had been caught. He began to move and for a moment she thought he was waking up, but he was just turning over. Sybil let out a quiet sigh of relief and set back on her task of taking advantage of her husband while he was sleeping.

_It's not like that. I'm just… well, he kissed me at the wedding, albeit rather woodenly but it still counts as consent, right?_

Her husband's mouth was open only a fraction.

_Oh come on, how can I resist when you make it so easy?_

She kissed Sam in the way she had wanted to be kissed by him, a comforting compassionate touch filled with the promise of many more. Unfortunately, she held it for too long. Sam awoke with a gasp.

_Damn it, I forgot he was breathing from his mouth. After all that crying it's no wonder he has a stuffy nose._

He shuddered in that moment of panic everyone feels when they are startled awake. Sybil ducked away from his flailing arm

Suddenly he froze. He balled his fists and covered his eyes. "Damn it, I'm such an idiot! I didn't just force her to…" He shifted his knee reflexively. "I shouldn't have… Bloody hell, I was drinking too! Oh god, she's going to kill me, unless I-" He suddenly went deathly quiet.

"Sam, I'm right here."

He yelped and scrambled to the edge of the bed. Sam went quiet and looked at the floor blankly. He pulled his robe around him tightly.

"I'm sorry."

He truly did look sorry.

"I accept your apology."

"You're not mad?"

"A little, well… frustrated, but definitely not mad."

Sam relaxed his shoulders and smiled sadly. A hollow grumble came from his stomach.

Sybil smiled. She refastened her robe and opened the door. On the ground were two platters. Willikins must have brought them breakfast in bed, but now it was lunch in bed. She turned around. Sam had vanished. Sybil put the tray on the bedside table and knocked on the bathroom door.

"Sam? Come out and eat something."

He didn't reply. Sybil shrugged. She snatched the other plate and got into bed. Breakfast in bed wasn't right unless you're actually in bed to eat it. Conveniently the name is the instructions.

Sybil listened to her husband in the bathroom. She heard something shift and the sound of glass bottles breaking. The voice behind the door cursed.

"Do you need any help?"

"No I don't need any help," he snapped.

"If you say so."

Sam cursed again.

"Oh forget about the glass," said Sybil. "Just come and eat something. It'll make you feel better."

He came into the room disheveled with a mix of multicolored pills in his hand.

"Sit down and I'll tell you which medicine does what. You can't take them on an empty stomach anyway."

Sam sat on top of the blankets and reached for the platter.

"Come now Sam, get under the sheets. I'm not going to bite you."

Sam slowly shuffled underneath the covers and pulled his breakfast/lunch towards him. Even though it was cold, the meal was surprisingly good. However, there was a distinct lack of bacon. How could anyone forget to put bacon on a breakfast tray?

Sam took Sybil's hand surreptitiously under the blankets. He continued to eat as if nothing had happened.

"Oh don't act like that's not your hand."

He blushed and let her go. Sybil moved her tray away and scooted over next to Sam who was trying to look in every other direction but at her. She took away his platter and touched his cheek. He started shaking.

"I… uh."

"Yes?"

"I just ate I should brush my teeth."

Sybil drew her fingers through his hair. "I don't care if you smell like food."

"But I… have a headache."

Sybil raised an eyebrow. "You know, I can help you with that. Distract you from the pain until the medicine kicks in," she whispered in his ear.

Sybil nipped at his earlobe. Sam blushed even more. His heart beat wildly.

"Don't be so worried," said Sybil. She held his trembling hand and gave him a reassuring smile.

"I shouldn't be touching you." Sam said. "I… don't even think I can."

"Why? I'm your wife. The whole wedding thing wasn't just for show. White dress, lots of flowers. I'm sure you remember."

"I remember."

Sam pulled his hand away slowly and sat up.

"I remember…"

He turned away and folded his arms across his stomach. At first Sybil thought he was going to be sick, but he just sat there ridged and distant. He lowered his head.

"That day, just before the wedding, I cornered a murderer. I… I was going to kill him. I saw it in my head… the memory that hadn't happened yet. I wanted to watch him die by my hands. My whole body craved it. If Corporal Carrot hadn't been there, if my fingers slipped just a little, I could have murdered him…" Sam shuddered and gasped for breath. "This isn't right! How could you even think of marrying a man like me?" he shouted. "I don't deserve any of this!"

Sybil reached out to touch him

"Sam, I love you."

"DON'T SAY THAT!"

Sam hit her hand away.

He froze. An expression of horror covered his face and he stopped breathing. He pressed his hands over his ears tightly, squeezed his eyes closed, and bent over shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I can't… I shouldn't even be here… I'm sorry…"

Sybil wanted desperately to help him and to show him the kindness he so obviously needed, but his actions gave her pause.

_He won't let me love him. He doesn't understand at all._

She closed her eyes and tried to sort out her surging emotions from reality. With the two properly separated, she resorted to a special brand of logic usually set aside for politicians.

She turned off reality.

The thing about turning off reality is that it's potentially fatal when done under the wrong circumstances. This situation was undeniably the wrong circumstances. Sybil started overwriting her own beliefs and in her mind, she assumed everything he had told her was true. She stepped into the reality of an unstable panicked man.

_He shouldn't be here. I don't know why I married him. He almost killed that man. He's so violent. He hit me!_

The answer was clear. It was a twisted answer in the mind of a twisted man. Sybil pulled Sam's head up and slapped him. The part of Sybil that anchored her to her reality yelled at her from far away. '_That's what you chose? That doesn't even make sense! How is this helping?' _The other part, however, was not finished. The lies went further.

"You hit me! I was only trying to help and you lashed out at me!"

"I'm sorry…"

"Sorry isn't enough, it still hurt even if you're sorry."

Sam looked at the floor as if he had been expecting this all along. Sybil's anchor fumed at her. She pretended not to hear.

Sam's face took on the broken yet defiant look of a clerk who hates his boss but can't do anything because he's in debt and his boss knows it. It was that expression that broke through her temporary lies. Sybil's anchor yanked her back into reality.

_Bloody hell, what did I do? I'm her! The sadistic woman who made those scars, that's what he sees me as right now. What am I going to do? I can't just do the same thing. That's awful! I have to try something else. What should have happened back then? That woman chose the wrong answer, but what was the right one supposed to be?_

Sybil's internal anchor rolled her eyes.

_Oh, right, that's it. I just have to be me. That lousy tart can rot in hell for all I care. It's not about what happened before. It's about what I do now._

"You're a violent man," she said firmly. "You need to be taught a lesson. Come with me."

Sam followed her dejectedly, like a prisoner. Sybil opened the door to the Tangerine Drawing Room.

"Sit down, Sam," she instructed. She opened a cabinet and brought out a small box. "Take these, you'll need them."

Sam took the box but didn't open it. He just stared at it blankly. He felt betrayed yet guilty at the same time. Wisps of anger churned in his heart. He clung to the familiar emotion and drew strength from it. It wasn't much but it helped him remember that he was once Captain Vimes, the man who gained power through hatred. The anger reminded him of a time when he was strong, when no criminal would cross him.

Sybil pulled two books of paper out of the cabinet and grabbed a novelty ceramic dog off one of the shelves. She handed one of the books of paper to Sam and set the tacky dog on the table where the sun could shine on it.

"Could you open the box? I think the H2 pencils will suffice. This is only your first lesson so I'm not going to bother going into too much detail about the materials."

Sam looked at her cautiously and raised an eyebrow.

"Fine, if you insist, I'll tell you. There are labels on each pencil. They represent their hardness and by proxy their shade. It's not really necessary to use the others. We're just sketching."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're too aggressive, Sam. You need to build up some more creative and calming skills. Drawing is one of those things that you have to be gentle to become good at. I also like being treated with care. I'm going to teach you ways to be gentle, and then you won't have little accidents like that." She glared at him.

"Um… I… don't understand. You're going to teach me to draw because I hit you?"

"Yes, the connection will make more sense once you get the first steps down. I'm sure Corporal Carrot could explain if you asked him."

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* * *

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"Agh, I can't do this! That stupid dog is mocking me!"

"It does have a sort of cheeky quality about it but I'm sure it acts that way around everyone. Don't take it personally."

Sam put down his materials and lay down on the couch. He put one arm over his eyes and let the other droop off the side. Sybil took a look at his drawing. It wasn't all that bad for a beginner but there were more eraser marks than necessary.

"I told you, you have to start the sketch light then you press harder once you've defined the shape properly. Small light marks are easier to erase and the mistakes don't show much. You can't just draw the lines all at once until you know where the little lines told you to go."

"I tried that but then that dog gave me the wrong look. It's deliberately trying to make me fail."

Sybil smiled and silently knelt down on the floor beside her husband's head. She kissed him lightly on the cheek. The unexpected touch startled Sam. Sybil giggled and quickly put her hand on his chest to keep him from sitting up.

"How about I show you a more practical application?" she whispered.

She felt Sam's heart speed up under her hand. She leaned over and licked his ear. He gasped.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"Nothing, I just like hearing you gasp like that. It lets me know I'm doing something right."

"You're saying it's okay for me to do that? I don't have to be quiet? Isn't talking softly a part of being gentle?

"It is but it isn't, it depends on the context."

"Oh, yes, that makes perfect sense," Sam said sarcastically.

"I mean that speaking softly is part of being gentle, but so is following my rules."

She snuck in a tiny kiss on his ear and heard Sam's sharp breath. She smiled and started kissing a trail to his mouth. His breath was shallow and hesitant. He let her kiss him on the lips. He made an oddly satisfying chirp.

"Do that again," he said quietly.

She did. Sam lay still but relaxed his lips to give Sybil more freedom of movement. She took that and made the soft kiss so much more with so little.

"You're supposed to kiss me back, Sam. It's one of the rules."

Sam swallowed hard. "But I can't kiss you like that! That was amazing! I'd only mess it up."

"That's what the drawing lesson was for. If you make small light movements then the mistakes don't matter."

Sam's face relaxed a slightly. Sybil went in for another round. Sam ever so gently kissed her back. Just that subtle change was electrifying. Sybil pressed a little further. Sam pressed a little too much but hastily backed off.

"Sorry."

"Don't worry, I can make it work."

She kissed him again. This time the pressure increased in the best way.

Sam opened his mouth and gasped for air. He had a look on his face that Sybil had not seen before. It was an odd mixture of desire, fear, hope, confusion, joy, guilt, surprise, and something else that wasn't clear but was still definitely there.

"That… was that ok?" he asked.

"It certainly was," Sybil replied grateful he had shown his affection. "That is how it's done."

"You mean that was what I was supposed to do at our wedding?"

"Yes."

Sam looked mortified. "I couldn't… how could I even… all those people watching!"

Her husband's sudden shyness filled Sybil's chest with a need to see more.

"Yes, Sam. It's not uncommon to see couples kissing in public. You've no doubt seen them."

"And, you want me to do that?"

Sam's face was so fearful and nervous that Sybil couldn't bring herself to say yes.

"No, you don't have to," she said.

"It's just that, if they saw… then it wouldn't work. That… I just couldn't do that."

"It's ok. You can keep this all private. It will be an exclusive party between just you and me."

Sam paused for a moment and gazed into her eyes. His face slowly relaxed.

"That sounds… nice."

Sam gave her a faint smile. He placed his hand gently on her cheek just as she had showed him before and kissed her lightly.

Sybil's heart soared. He had given her love of his own free will. She didn't have to ask for it. It wasn't something that he was obliged to do. He touched her lovingly simply because he wanted to. He had allowed himself to love her.

"Come with me," said Sybil softly. "Let's go back to the bedroom and you can show me what you've learned."

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* * *

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"I'll remember the rules."

"I trust you will."

He kissed her ear and all the way down the side of her neck. He looked up at her and she nodded. Sybil closed her eyes and focused on only his touch. It was a careful, soft, and wavering touch that tickled a little because Sam was shaking. She pulled her arm out of the sleeve and gasped when he suddenly kissed the burn she had on her arm. He stopped

"Is that wrong?"

"No, it's okay you just spooked me a bit. If you keep your hand touching my skin, I'll be able to prepare for what you do next. However," she opened her eyes sensually, "I give you full permission to break that little guideline."

Sam blushed and turned his eyes away. He hesitantly kissed the scar again right where he had before and touched her skin with the tips of his fingers. He kept his face close as he explored the little ridges left over from the dragon burn.

_He probably is going to know more about that scar than I do if he keeps examining it like that._

Sam let his fingers wander down her arm to her hand. He laced their fingers together. She tilted his chin up and kissed him lovingly. He responded with slightly less vigor and smidgen of shy restraint. Sam slowly brought his hand up to her neck and stopped before he made contact.

Sybil remembered the rope that Sam had told her about. She placed a hand over his and looked at him kindly.

"It's ok for you to touch me there. Just do it the way that woman didn't. She should have been gentle and caring towards you. She didn't ask you what you wanted. You're not her, Sam. You're not the same as you were before. You can touch me and not hurt me. You know how to do it so the mistakes don't matter."

Sam didn't move his hand so Sybil moved it for him. She lay his hand across her neck and let go. He pulled back and sat up straight on the bed so he was kneeling beside her. She laughed silently.

"All right, you don't have to touch me there if it makes you that uncomfortable."

Sam panicked a little. He was acting like he was checking every movement he made to make sure it was the right thing to do. It was as if he had a list in his head of all the things he had gone through and was carefully avoiding them. Sybil took his hand and placed his arm on the other side of her body. She touched his chest with both hands. Sam's breath caught and he held his eyes shut. She worked her way up his chest and passed his fluttering heart. Her husband started taking hard shuddering breaths. His body tensed and his eyes squeezed shut even further.

She stopped just along his collarbone with her hands splayed out. The muscles on his neck were strained but he didn't lower his chin to stop her. She moved her hands an inch higher making Sam whimper and recoil.

"If you don't want me to, then I won't."

"Don't stop, please." He was almost crying, but he straightened his neck and leaned in closer to her. "I need this."

Sybil slowly moved up his neck. Sam was shaking in terror.

"Keep going."

She held her hands gently on both sides of his neck right where the scar was. She paused and let Sam calm down.

"Your thumbs…" he whispered, "put them together."

Sybil looked at her husband. He was obviously scared witless.

"I don't think I should."

Sam took a few deep breaths and set his face. He looked her in the eye with the stare of a watchman.

"Do it," said Captain Vimes.

Sybil crossed her thumbs over his neck in a gesture that looked as if she was going to choke him. He screamed. She let go. His shoulders shuddered and his breath hitched but the fleeting remnants of Captain Vimes held back his voice and stopped the tears from falling. Sam put his neck out again.

"Please, Sybil, keep your hands there. Even if I scream, leave them there! Please!"

"But I don't want to make you scared like this."

"It's not you I'm afraid of. Please, trust me. I don't know what I'm doing but I feel like I need to. I'll make it up to you. I promise."

Sybil carefully placed her hands on Sam's chest again and slid them up. She slowed as she approached his collar. He started to whimper fearfully again. She paused only for a second before continuing. She held her palms around his neck and put her thumbs together.

Sam shouted again, but Sybil didn't move her hands. He went completely quiet and ridged.

_His eyes, they're not even looking at anything. He's so stiff. It's like he's not even here._

She loosened her fingers a bit just in case but kept them touching his skin and waited.

_I'll just wait a few seconds. He told me not to let go but what if he's having a heart attack or something?_

Just as she was about to release him, she saw the life start to return to his eyes. He began to shiver again but less than before. His breath became ragged but he wasn't sobbing.

"Sam, are you okay?"

"Just don't let go… please."

"What happened there?"

"I… When she…" he murmured, "please Sybil, don't say anything."

She waited with her hands around her husband's neck. For a moment she thought he was going to pass out but she stayed silent and tried to keep her shaking hands still. He hovered over her with his eyes shut and a tormented expression. He blearily opened his eyes to look at her. He showed her a slow grateful smile.

"Thank you, thank you so much," he whispered. "That's exactly how it should have been. I'm sorry for using you like that. It was selfish of me."

_Well if that's you being selfish, then I'd hate to see what you do when you're being selfless. _

"Er… you can… let go now."

Sybil slid her hands away slowly and touched his shoulders. She smiled at him.

"What if I don't want to?" said Sybil with a little mischief in her voice.

"You mean you still want to be with me even after all I've made you do?"

"I take my vows seriously."

She took Sam's hand and placed it on her chest. "Will you touch me? Tell me what you see in me?"

"You're… beautiful."

"Will you show me where."

"Everywhere."

"Then show me piece by piece… Please. I want to know."

"I… but where do I start?"

"You start where you are right now. That's usually a good place to start anything." Sam couldn't move so Sybil moved his hand for him until his fingers touched a mole near her shoulder. Her face drooped and she looked away from him. "You say I'm beautiful everywhere, but that's not true."

Sam didn't answer. He hesitantly passed his fingers over the mole. He felt its texture and shape. He noted the color and how it raised a little from the surface of her skin. Sybil grew tense. A knot formed in her stomach. She was self-conscious about the mole and only ever wore dresses that covered it. It was different from the dragon burns. She was proud of those. They were a testament to her achievements. The mole however was not. She waited anxiously for Sam's judgment.

He slowly moved his face closer and kissed it.

"It's beautiful."

Sybil blinked and looked at Sam. She searched for any sign of dishonesty. There was none.

"Really? How?"

"It's perfectly round. The color is just dark enough to notice but not too dark. The best part is its location. I don't know why, but it looks nice there."

Sybil blushed and smiled shyly. She couldn't even meet his eyes.

Sam drew an invisible line to the top of her shoulder and stopped to examine it. He wasn't even thinking about what he was doing. He just wanted to see what she looked like up close. He wanted to know everything about her and in this moment she had given him permission to do so. He treasured the contact. He had lived for a long time without someone to love and the emotion weighed heavily on his heart. He was so focused that it wasn't hard to completely ignore any feelings of arousal. He passed his hands gently over her skin as if he would never have this chance again. He felt the texture and shape of her whole body. Shoulders, arms, stomach, sides, feet, legs, thighs.

"I want you Sam." said Sybil breathlessly.

Sam stopped. He suddenly realized that he had gone too far. He found himself positioned right between her legs.

"Don't worry, I'll show you were to go," she said.

She reached down, but Sam backed away from her hand.

"No."

"No?"

"I won't."

"Seriously? You don't have to be scared. I want this. You're not going to hurt me or anything."

Sam backed up even further.

"I can't do it."

"Yes you can!"

_Is it me? _Sybil thought_. Do I smell that bad? No, that's not it. He's just being a baby. He's not getting away this time!_

Sybil quickly sat up and grabbed Sam's crotch.

"I've been patient long enough! You're the one who got me this excited. Now take responsibility!"

"Don't make me do it! I'm sorry! I didn't…" Against all rationality, Sam slowly and unsteadily crept away.

Sybil gave him a squeeze.

"Sybil please there has to be another way!"

_He wants it just as much as I do. Sex is an animal instinct. Why doesn't he just let it happen? He's painfully close I can feel it, but he's still holding back. HOW IN THE WORLD IS HE DOING THAT?_

Sam set his eyes resolutely. He firmly pushed away Sybil's hand and used only his fingers to satisfy her.

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* * *

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After a trip to the bathroom, Sam lay down beside her. He nudged his head under her chin so she couldn't see the look of shame on his face. Sybil wrapped her arms around him. She could feel his body shivering.

"I'm sorry… I shouldn't have…" Sam held on to her desperately.

"Well I suppose it makes sense that you wouldn't want to go all out on your first time with me, but you don't have to be sorry for that. It turned out okay… more than okay actually."

She blushed and smiled but Sam couldn't see it.

"I hurt you didn't I…"

"Well it was rather cruel of you to tease me so much, but you didn't hurt me."

"I… mean… at the end," Sam whispered carefully "when I… I'm sorry."

"What are you talking about? You were great."

Sam went quiet for a full minute. Sybil wondered if he had fallen asleep.

"I didn't want to do that to you. I panicked."

"Why didn't you want to? I enjoyed it. You're really good."

"Don't say that," Sam cringed.

"Why not? It's true. You're talented. Where did you learn that?"

Sam went quiet again.

_Oh…_

He pulled her closer.

"I can't do that to you. She… you're not her. I can't treat you like that. I shouldn't ever use the things she taught me. I don't want to hurt you."

Sybil tilted his chin up so she could see his face. She trailed her thumb over one of his tightly closed eyes and rested her hand on his cheek.

"Sam, it doesn't have to be like that. The teacher isn't important. It's how you use what you learned that matters."

"But, I can't. I can't do those awful things to you."

"Just because someone is clearly evil doesn't mean that the things you learn from them are all evil. I mean, look at Havelock. He's evil and you've probably learned a lot from him."

"Havelock? That's a stupid name."

"Havelock Vetinari. I'm sure you've heard of him. He's the city's Patrician."

"He has a name?"

Sybil chuckled.

"Yes, Sam most people have a first name, even tyrants. The point is that the political skills you've learned from him aren't evil just because he is. You can always choose what abilities you use in any situation. I mean, they're your talents now, not theirs. You can use that knowledge anyway you want."

"But everything that woman ever told me was a lie."

"So what? You'll just have to sort out things to see how you can use them. Even lies are useful if you know what you're doing. Havelock taught me that."

"It's creepy when you call him that."

She shrugged.

"I've just gotten used to it. I started using his first name to show that I was friendly towards him. The other Patricians were just horrible to me. They said that I was a threat to their position. I figured that when Havelock… I mean Lord Vetinari came to power I should try to actively communicate that I'm not a threat. So far he's pretty much left me alone."

"At least that's one thing he got right," Sam muttered sleepily.

"I'm sorry I broke my promise," said Sybil.

"It's fine…"

"No it's not. I told you I would stop if you asked, but I didn't."

"It doesn't matter. I'm used to it."

Sybil looked into Sam's eyes. "I'm not going to treat you like that just because you're used to it."

Sam looked puzzled, but didn't say anything. He leaned into her warm soft body and fell asleep.

.

* * *

.

"I'm not scared." Sybil said. She and Sam had just returned from a shopping trip and Sybil had cornered him in the bedroom.

"You're not? But I could hurt you… I could kill you."

"You could, but you won't. I know that for a fact."

"How can you be so certain? You've seen me at work! I attack people every day! I've killed people, actual living beings with families and memories! You can't possibly believe that I'm not dangerous! If I lose control…"

"Oh I know you're dangerous, Sam."

He relaxed a little.

"Now do you see why I shouldn't even be near you? I'm a monster."

Sybil smiled and rolled her eyes. She kicked off her shoes and plopped down on the bed. There was a notebook in the bedside drawer that she started to flip through.

"Just because you're dangerous doesn't mean you can't be other things too. I have a hard time believing you're a monster, but if you are, you can still be a gentle loving husband or anything else for that matter."

"I'm not following you Sybil. Are you saying there are two of me?"

"I guess that's one way of putting it," said Sybil, finding her place. "Humans aren't logical creatures, Sam. Being violent and being kind are not mutually exclusive. Just because you can kill me doesn't mean you can't be kind to me. Actually, it may be a good thing that you're so strong. What if I became a vampire or something?"

"I hate vampires."

"There you go, perfect example. Since you're a powerful man, you'd be able to stop me if I ever went berserk."

"I'm not going to kill you, Sybil!"

"Then I have nothing to worry about. Even if you did try, I would be fine. You have an insane amount of restraint."

Sam went quiet. For a moment he just watched Sybil make diagrams in her notebook. She looked up at him with a touch of admiration.

"I was begging you to take me, and you still managed to say no. That just does not happen with normal men. I bet you could stop yourself from doing pretty much anything after that."

Sam smiled sadly as he sat down on the bed next to her.

"You're right. I did stop. I… used what I had learned."

"She taught you that?"

"Not really, she just forced me to get better at it. I learned the skill from Sergeant Keel."

"Did he hurt you too? Did he make you do anything?"

Sam sneered at her.

"He was a good man," he said firmly.

He sighed and started again in a softer tone. "Do you remember the Glorious Revolution? Sergeant Keel was there with me when we burned down the interrogation building. He and I searched the place. The victims had all been tortured brutally and sadistically. There were people whose minds had been broken again and again…" Sam's eyes fogged over with the memory. He continued in a faint whisper. "I would have killed that man had Keel not stopped me. He taught me to rein in my anger. Justice must be done in the light." He looked away guiltily. "I can't lose that control. I can't let that animal instinct overpower me…"

Sybil smiled and tilted her head a little. "I could always tie you down," she said sarcastically.

Sam's head turned sharply around to face her. He wore an expression that looked as if both his lungs had been suddenly turned inside out. He turned away quickly, bent his head down, and started shaking.

_What was I thinking? I can't joke about things like that!_

"Look, Sam, I didn't mean…" she reached over to touch his shoulder, but stopped. She heard Sam's voice on the edge of hearing.

"…okay…"

Sybil stared at the back of his head bewildered.

"Um, I wasn't serious about that," she said.

"…I am…"

Sybil roughly pulled backwards on to the bed. Sam's arms reflexively covered his face and chest defensively. Sybil glared at him through the gap.

"Don't you _ever_ say things like that!" she shouted.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Sam was trembling. He scrunched his chin down and raised his shoulders protectively covering his neck. Sybil shook her head in disapproval and waited. Eventually Sam lowered his arms.

"Then what is it that you want me to say?" he asked submissively.

"She tied you down, didn't she?"

Sam hugged his body tightly as if he was bracing himself for pain. His breathing was shallow and quick.

"I can't be trusted, Sybil. My whole body is a weapon."

Sybil lay down beside him and put her arms around his shoulders. Sam made a sound like someone trying to stifle a hiccup and started shivering all over. He snuggled into her arms and held her tightly. She pressed his body against her and did her best to protect and comfort him while quietly sobbed.

"Will you tell me?" she asked.

Sam buried his face in her bodice and shook his head.

"You can't live between my breasts forever. You'll need to come up for air at some point."

He shook his head again. Sybil waited for nature to take its course. Eventually Sam let out all of the air in his lungs against her skin making a loud 'Bbbrrrrraaap' noise. He surfaced gasping for breath. Sybil laughed.

"That tickles!" she chuckled.

"Sorry," Sam said sheepishly.

Sybil smiled and kissed him gently. "Don't apologize. It was funny. You'll have to try it on me in the bath sometime."

Sam's eyes lit up in hopeful elation at the idea. When Sybil married him, he was suddenly thrust unwillingly into the incomprehensible world of the wealthy. Normally, he despised all the posturing and fake smiles that came with being rich, but the one thing he loved was being able to take a long hot bath every day. Sometimes he had two baths just because he could. The prospect of adding Sybil to one of his favorite activities made him grin from ear to ear.

"You could join me in a bath anytime you want! You don't even have to ask! I don't care if you use bubbles or salt or whatever else it is that women put in baths. I will endure smelling like lilac for the rest of the day!" he said.

Suddenly he froze. Sam's smile vanished. His face instantly hardened into the perpetual scowl he wore when he was being Captain Vimes. He got up and started putting on his clothes.

"What's wrong, Sam?" asked Sybil.

"Acting-Constable Cuddy is being buried today, that's what's wrong." Sam looked at his wife. "Will you come with me?"

"Always, Sam. Always."

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* * *

.

Acting-Constable Cuddy had died in the confrontation on the day of Vimes' wedding. It was traditional to bury watchmen in the graveyard. Sergeant John Keel rested there. Each year on the day of his death, Sam brought lilacs to his grave. Keel was only one of the many friends that Sam had buried there over the years.

.

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—"There were always only guards at a guard's funeral. When you became a watchman, you stopped being everything else."—

Terry Pratchett

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	5. Chapter 5

Sybil and Sam sat together in the bath room. Sam seemed more comfortable there than in the bedroom where the very existence of a bed implied expectations. He wanted to try to let her touch him directly. He hoped to get past his fear of exposure. In order to do that, though, he had to take his pants off.

The first attempt had failed because Sam tried to do it with Sybil there with him. She decided that it would be best to leave the room and only come in when he was ready. It had worked in a way. They were in the same room with him naked below the waist, but another problem had arisen. Sam was too scared to move his hands away from his crotch. He kneeled with his back against the wall by the bathtub trying to cover up with his shirt. He was frozen with his eyes clamped shut.

Sybil sat down fully clothed in the tub beside him and looked at his face in profile. She didn't touch him as she waited.

"Sam?"

"I'm sorry."

"Sam, open your eyes."

He slowly complied but did not look at her.

"Where are you, Sam?"

"I… I'm in your house, the Ramkin estate on Scoone Avenue."

Sybil decided not to press the fact that it was his house too.

"Look at me."

Sam closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Keep your eyes open, Sam."

He opened them halfway but still didn't look at her. His eyes were misty.

"What do you see over there?" she asked.

"It's just a cupboard."

"Can you hear anything?"

"Nothing unusual."

"What kind of flooring do I have?"

"It's wood but there's a rug on it."

"Look at me, Sam."

He did but very slowly.

"Who am I?"

"You're…"

"Say it."

"You're Lady Sybil Ramkin…"

"And?"

"… my wife."

"So then?"

"You're Sybil Vimes," He whispered barely able to keep his eyes open.

"We are not where you were before, Sam. I am not that woman. Look around. This is entirely different. You are not the same as you were then. You are better, older, wiser, and much more influential that that Samuel Vimes. No one can pull the same trick on you twice."

Sybil sat up and blew a puff of air at Sam's face. He flinched at the unexpected movement. She smiled at him and took both his hands.

"Right now, if you saw that woman again, you wouldn't be scared at all. Even though you've retired, your men will always see you as their captain. You could break both her legs, knock her out, and drag her to Psuedopolis Yard. You wouldn't even have to say anything for them to rule it self-defense."

"You have a good report with the Patrician. If you asked, I'm sure he would give you access to his scorpion pit. You can even hire an assassin to take her out. You are _not_ the same. In all actuality, you won't have to do any of those things. You can look at her with eyes that have stared down a dragon's mouth. No one can do those things to you, now."

She blew at Sam's face again. He didn't flinch this time.

"Keep your eyes open. No one tricks you twice." Sybil leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "It's okay. You can get dressed. I don't mind."

* * *

When Sam came back into the bedroom, Sybil was sitting on the bed carefully sorting a pile of documents. She stared at one of them with a lopsided frown and created a new pile for it. Sam relaxed. Not only did he have his clothes back on, but the atmosphere had changed too. The presence of paperwork can transform any room into an office.

He sat down on the bed next to her and peeked at what she was working on. The papers were full of strange charts and numbers, all with impressive letterheads and wax seals. For Sam, finances were easy. He just put a hand in his pocket and hoped no one had stolen anything while he was passed out on the street.

He decided to not volunteer to help on the basis that any 'help' he gave would undoubtedly backfire. All was not lost though. Sybil was focusing intently which meant that Sam could simply watch her. She wasn't paying him any attention. He wouldn't have to worry about conversation or proper behavior. He could just sit there in her presence without any expectations.

It felt amazing. Fear and tension melted away and his world became simple. He watched her fingers move and bend as she picked up the papers. He watched her expressions change with each new report.

Sam lay beside her and let her presence calm him. It was a mystery to him how she could so easily change his emotions. She had such an impact on him even when she was doing nothing.

He was overcome with the urge to touch her. It wrapped frozen wires around his heart and pulled them tight. The need for contact strangled him and forced the air out of his lungs. The desire pained him, but the thought of what would happen next hurt even more. He had to. Every piece of his being was screaming at him all shouting different views.

He slowly moved his hand hoping she wouldn't notice. A thousand doubts exploded in his mind. His memories berated him for even thinking of touching her. His hand trembled. Her foot was so close but the pressure of guilt made ever centimeter an agonizing trial. Was he even worthy of touching her feet? She hadn't given him permission. She wouldn't know it was coming. The rules in his mind paralyzed him just an inch away.

_I can't. I can't do this. How could I even dare to when she hasn't asked?_

Suddenly she moved her foot to meet his hand. Sam recoiled. She glanced at him and smiled but kept her focus on the papers.

I'm sorry," said Sam.

"No, it's okay. You should have told me you wanted to touch my feet. I never saw the appeal but I hear it's a common fetish. You don't have to be embarrassed."

"But it's not—"

Sam cut himself off and thought for a bit. A fetish? That could be useful. He didn't really find feet too sexually attractive but it felt somehow easier to admit than being too scared to initiate contact with any other part of her body after that thing with the breakfast. If she thought it was a fetish then he wasn't going to challenge that. As a bonus, it was something she didn't care about. He could touch her feet a lot without raising any suspicions.

"Um, yeah… I like feet. I think they're… uh, comforting."

"Then you can touch my feet whenever you like. I'm ticklish though so you can't be too gentle there."

Sam spent a few minutes in heavenly silence.

"Why are you with me?" he asked softly. "I don't get it. Does danger excite you or something?"

Sybil pushed the paperwork aside and focused on Sam who was trying hard not to be focused on.

"Maybe a little but that isn't the main thing," Sybil said gently. "I'm doing this because you are the most amazing man I have ever met. I want you to look at me with those eyes every day. I'll be happy knowing that no one else but me will ever see them that way."

"If I'm the best, then the other men must be lower than dirt."

"They are. Aristocrats are like that."

"But you're one of them! Why would they be like that to you?"

"Sam," said Sybil firmly, "I am not one of them. I am one of me. Don't group me with them just because I have money."

"Sorry."

Sybil kissed him as a sign that his apology was accepted. She flicked her tongue inside his mouth teasingly and pulled away.

"I envy you sometimes," she said.

"What? Why?"

Sam couldn't even think of any reason why anyone would envy him. Well, he knew one reason but that one was sitting right in front of him. She smiled at him in a way that made him envy himself. Sybil stroked Sam's hair lovingly.

"You are a good copper surrounded by people who trust you, true friends who, with the exception of Knobby, support you just because you're you."

"I am _not_ a good copper, Sybil."

"But you have to admit that you're a better man than any of my acquaintances."

"A slug is a better man than Lord Rust."

"The point is that you are someone I can come to trust completely. Even in your line of work you still care about people. I want more than anything to be part of that. I want you to love me and trust me in a way that you'll never do for anyone else. I want to make you mine, every part of you. And I want to belong to you."

Sam looked away sullenly.

"It hurts," he whispered. "It shouldn't be like this. I'm not like that. I… I'm not good enough."

"Did you ever wonder if you don't have to be good enough?"

Sam brought his hand up to cover his neck and pressed his arms firmly against his chest.

"You should have more than me. I know how I think. You don't want that."

"I think the pros outweigh the cons," Sybil said.

She leaned over him and into his field of vision. Sam looked at her shyly.

"I don't see how."

"I believe you have hidden depths."

"Yes, I do but they're down there for a reason."

"Just trust me on this one."

Sybil shifted on the matress so they lay face to face. Sam gave her an anxious look trimmed with bashful humility. Sybil put her hands on Sam's chest and leaned in for a kiss. She licked Sam's chin and gently pulled his head back so she could suck the underside of his jaw. He flinched as she followed the scar on his neck and up to his ear. She put her mouth over it and dipped her tongue into every nook.

"That's nice," he said softly.

Her mouth was warm. She licked behind his ear and held her lips around his earlobe. He sighed in disappointment when she moved on to the corner of his eye. He closed them tightly, but Sybil's soft tongue relaxed his eyelids. She sucked on the spot between his eyebrows until they fell out of his usual angry expression. His face became tranquil just as if he were sleeping. She followed the side of his nose to his mouth and kissed him again.

No one had ever paid so much attention to him in this way. Sybil looked at him as if he was the only man on the disc, and even the disc's existence was up for debate.

She followed his collarbone down to the base of his neck and licked the hollow between his bones. She kissed him and sucked the skin just above it. Sam moaned lightly and Sybil could feel the vibrations of his voice. She sucked a little further up.

"Say something, Sam."

"What?"

"Tell me you love me."

Sam blushed and started trembling.

"I…" His voice quavered and vibrated against Sybil's lips. "I…" Sam swallowed. His Adams apple passed along her tongue. His body squirmed a bit under her. "Is that really what you want? You would let someone like me love you?" He turned his head and his breathing became shallow and quick. She could tell he was about to cry.

"No not at all," she said and put her lips to his ear "Why would I accept the love of someone who is only _like_ you when I have the original right in front of me? A reproduction just wouldn't be good enough."

Sam squeezed his eyes shut and condensed his body as much as he could.

Sybil leaned down and kissed his lips softly. "You may not technically be an antique but I'm sure your sentimental value will only appreciate."

"It hurts…"

"I love you."

"Don't say that!"

Sam pushed on her ineffectually. Tears flowed from his tightly closed eyes. He covered his neck defensively with his hands and shoulders.

"Don't lie to me! I can't take it!" His body shuddered underneath her. He clutched his opposite shoulders until his nails drew blood.

Sybil steadied herself and tried not to feel rejected.

"Sam, what would you do if it wasn't a lie?"

"I… I don't know. I don't even know what you want from me. You have everything already. What could I possibly give you?"

"Actually, I don't know what I want from you either, but I'm certain that if you're going to give something to someone, I want it to be me."

"I don't know what to give you."

"You could start by giving me your trust. I'd rather enjoy getting some respect and attention. Of course love will be necessary too."

Sam looked uncomfortable.

"How… should I do that?"

Sybil smiled warmly.

"Turn on your side and I'll show you."

Sybil let Sam move freely. He hesitantly rolled over, wary of what she had in mind. She lay down in front of him with her back to him and scooted her body against his. She took his hand and held it to her chest so his arm wrapped around her. She sighed and relaxed. Sam however only got tenser.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Nothing really. You're just comforting me."

"Shouldn't I be doing something though?"

"You can if you want to, but it's not necessary. All I want you to do is hold me until you feel like stopping."

"So I could stop now?"

"I'd be a little disappointed, but yes."

"How long?"

"Well, eventually I'm going to get hungry or have to use the bathroom, so that would be the maximum."

"Oh…"

"If you're uncomfortable with your position or if say, your leg falls asleep, feel free to move."

"Um…"

"Yes?"

"And that's it? You just want me to hold you?"

"In any way you feel fit."

"Is this a sexual thing?"

"Not now. You should tell me if you want it to be, but currently I'd be happier without it."

"Oh…"

Sam's body stayed tense behind her. She could feel his heart beating quickly. His breaths were short and he hadn't moved an inch. Sybil wasn't really waiting for anything. She was memorizing his touch.

"Could you do something for me?" she asked.

"Yes." He squeaked. It was an odd sound coming from a man who had faced a dragon and took down criminals on a regular basis. He seemed all too eager for her to give him instructions or some sort of explanation.

"Can you bend your knees so I can feel your legs better?"

Sam complied. He took a sharp breath when he felt her butt press against his crotch and her legs twine together with his.

"Put your ear on my back and hold me tightly."

He did so. He waited for more instructions. They didn't come.

"Was there something else?" he asked.

"You could relax a bit. You're so rigid."

Sam unwound a little and pressed himself more firmly against her soft body. He held on to her desperately. Every so often he would tremble.

"Don't disappear…" Sam whispered.

"I won't."

"This can't be real."

"It is."

"But this sort of thing just doesn't happen. The beggar isn't supposed to marry the princess."

"Reality is much more flexible than faerie tales, Sam. The princess can marry whoever she damn well pleases."

Sybil felt wetness on her back. Sam's legs bent more.

"Do you hear it?" she asked.

"What?" Sam said fearfully.

"My breath."

Sam focused on her and listened carefully to the sound.

"I can hear it, your heartbeat too."

"What does my skin feel like?"

Sam moved his hands just a little.

"You feel so soft. You're plush and warm… I don't really know how to describe it. Squishy maybe?"

Sybil chuckled lightly.

"That's all you need to do. Touch me and remember how my body feels. Keep a hold on me until you're sure I'm really here."

Sam fell silent for a full hour. Sybil wondered if he had fallen asleep, but from time to time he would move slightly, just enough for her to be reminded that he was awake. It was an odd feeling knowing that the man behind her had been focusing on her for over an hour.

"Umm…" came a lowered voice from behind her.

"Yes?"

"Do you…" Sam spoke as if he didn't want to be heard. "Do you love me now?"

"I still love you, Sam."

"Do you mean it?"

"Yes, I mean it."

"Do you think you could love me tomorrow too?"

"It depends, do you plan on killing me tonight."

"No!"

"Then, yes, I will love you tomorrow too."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Sybil turned around so she could see her husband's anxious face.

"Really?" he asked.

"Yes, Sam. I'll keep on loving you for a while so you better get used to it."

"Can I kiss you?"

"Anytime you want."

He crossed the gap between them and kissed her softly. It was a sad shaking touch of a man who wants to believe the impossible.

"It hurts," he whispered and started to tremble. "Will you be here tomorrow too? Please…"

Sybil hugged him tightly.

"I want you to be with me every day. That includes tomorrow."

"It hurts…"

"Is it really that painful to be with me? Is it okay for me to keep you still?"

"Yes! It can go on hurting. I don't care! I want to hold you and never let go! Please take me. Own me. Keep me… I… I love you… I'm sorry."

Sybil beamed as she squeezed Sam tightly. She laughed happily and kissed his nose. Sam smiled and blushed. He touched his forehead to hers and looked at her with those soft eyes that she loved so much.

"Will you t-tell me you love me?" he asked hesitantly.

"I love you, Sam."

He smiled sadly and held her close. Sybil gave him a gentle fleeting kiss.

"I think you should try testing out all the things you've learned but not used," she said.

"What! I can't do that!" Sam clutched her body tightly.

"You could always just write them down and I'll tell you what ones I want to test with you. That way I know what's going on and I might learn something too."

"I… don't think… you really shouldn't see those things. I don't think I could do them even if you asked."

Sybil kissed him and held him close. She ran her hand down the burn scar on his back making Sam shiver. She smirked playfully.

"I think that so far you've shown me some rather nice things. If there's a chance that something wonderful will turn up, then I can deal with seeing the others."


	6. Chapter 6

Squeee! I love fluff!

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.

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* * *

Just to make things fair, Sybil had written a list too. Sam seemed more apprehensive about it than his own.

"This is really awkward, Sybil," he said.

"Yes it is, but we're doing it anyway. You wrote them down. Now we can't let that go to waste."

Sam held the paper in his hands like a bad poker player with a horrible hand.

"I… er… you should go first."

Sybil had split her list into two parts. Each page wasn't very long but they had been carefully separated into sections. Sam glanced down at his paper.

"I didn't think you would be so um, organized about this. You have… a few more than me."

"I used to read cheesy romance novels. I'm certain that some of the things in those books aren't even physically possible."

Sam's eyes flitted back and forth between the papers in Sybil's hand and his own. He had never really liked card games. He couldn't try being Captain Vimes. That persona didn't fit the situation at all. Actually, nothing fit this situation at all. He settled on just looking down. Sybil gave one of the papers to Sam. She watched his face turn pink as he read it silently. There were little movements on his features that were hard to interpret. Sybil blushed redder with each passing second.

Sam compared the lists carefully. Sometimes he would glance at her and look back down in a flash. She watched his shoulders anxiously shift forward to cover his neck. He tucked his elbows in and lowered his head. He looked up at her with a bashful expression that made Sybil's heart race.

"I um…" Sam mumbled and swallowed hard. "I'd be okay if we just kept to the traditional method."

"Oh come on. At least tell me what you think. I'd like to know, just in case."

"It's just that this list is kind of… unusual."

"That's the point. These are all lighthearted things. I thought it would make you a little bit more comfortable if I gave you the list of silly whims."

Sam relaxed and smiled playfully. "Well, I can tell you right now, that I'm not going to wear a golden tux."

Sybil sighed. She had expected him to say that. Sam ran his finger down the list.

"I'll do nothing involving the sausage buns and I don't really like honey all that much."

"Oh well, is there any you do like?"

"Maybe um, what's a berry cobbler?"

"That's what they call it when you put your lips between my breasts and go bbrrrbbrbrrmmbrmmrllrr."

Sam grinned at that one. Sybil took that as a yes.

"Can I see the other list?" he asked.

"I'm not so sure about the last one," said Sybil. "I don't want to scare you or anything."

Sam narrowed his eyes at her suddenly serious.

"The list that scares me is the one I need to see the most. Will you let me read it?"

"You say that as if I could say no."

"You can refuse. I'm not going to look at it if you don't want me to. If you tell me to stop, I will stop."

"You are good at that, aren't you?"

Sybil sighed and handed him the other sheet of paper. Sam was clearly unhappy with many of the ideas. At one point, he had to stop reading and look away. He did smile at some of them and one made him snort.

"What are you laughing at?" she asked.

He showed her.

"I wasn't sure about that one. I thought you would say that it's sick."

Sam laughed softly.

"No, that's not it… well, it is sick, but I just can't do that because I'm a bad cook."

"You smiled at some other ones."

Sam blushed vibrantly and looked at the floor.

"I really um, that is… I didn't think you would…"

"Spit it out Sam," she said impatiently.

"I'd love to see you… but I don't think Sargent Angua would consent to that." He glanced at her tentatively.

"Oh, don't be like that. I just think she's beautiful. I have absolutely no intention of leaving you but if ever I had to kiss a woman, it would be her. I heard that men like that sort of thing."

Sam smiled at the red that touched Sybil's cheeks. He traced a finger down the list. Sybil held her breath.

"I can't do the one with the hardboiled egg. That's something I would never do," he said with firm conviction.

_That's strange. What does he have against eggs? Why hasn't he mentioned the most obvious ones? I thought he'd refuse those right away. Maybe he just doesn't want to even talk about them._

Sam compared all of the lists quietly. When he met Sybil's eyes, his expression was uncertain and sad.

"There are a few of these that I also have on my list. I… didn't think any of them would match. I'm not sure how I feel about that."

_Oh no, does that mean the ones he hasn't addressed are things he's been forced to do or are they things he just didn't expect me to be interested in?_

"Would you try them with me?" Sybil asked nervously. "I won't be like her, I swear."

He got that faraway look in his eye again and looked down. "I shouldn't be saying this, but… I also… I mean she would… She would make me… and, I liked it. I know I shouldn't and it doesn't make sense but I really did." Sam paused, but continued before Sybil had a chance to speak. "I hated being held down, but the idea of you doing it to me makes me…"

Sam turned bright red and started shaking fearfully. He was trying so hard to look as small as possible.

"I hated it, but… I want to feel it again. I want to… with… I just can't! I'm sorry."

Sybil watched him with her mouth hanging open and her cheeks flushed. She blinked.

"You don't have to agree to this."

"I want to. I have to. I hated it before but that's the point. That's why I made you pretend you were choking me. I had to know what it felt like to be touched like that by someone I could trust."

"I'm not even sure I want to do this. I know I wrote it down but now that I think about it maybe we should wait."

"It's not going to get any less traumatic over time, Sybil. I can't forget how it felt. I just want you to know too…" The last of his words sounded like a hopeless plea.

"But I don't want to hurt you in the process. I don't want to make it worse."

"There is no possible way for you to make rape worse than it already is. When you're with me, everything is automatically better."

_Damn it, why does he have to say things like that?_

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The Summer Estate was enormous. It looked as if it had been a castle at one point before it was renovated. The master bedroom was full of intricate carvings, frescos, cherubs, and gilding. It was a rococo nightmare. They did not use that room.

The estate had a vast basement complete with dungeon and an armory that was labeled 'Sports Room.' There were large galleries to display the Ramkin family's antiques, treasures, and miscellaneous souvenirs. An ancient vase stood right next to a shelf with a cheap Klatchian dancing girl that wobbled when you touched it.

"Father was a hoarder," Sybil explained. "He collected everything even if he would never use it. There's a good chance he bought things just for the thrill of having them."

Sam followed Sybil through the house. His copper instincts helped him make a map in his head complete with bathroom locations and possible escape routes.

"It would be in a place where he would want it to be seen by a specific person. Father liked putting things around for shock value. He even put a skeleton in a closet just to make a point."

Sybil eventually found a cache in a wardrobe in one of the secondary guest bedrooms.

"I was right. They're all still in the boxes too. This was definitely one of Father's failed attempts at humor."

"I don't think I'm comfortable owning all this…"

"Oh this probably isn't the half of it and I'm not looking forward to stumbling upon his full collection any time soon. It's probably spread out all over. We have winter and fall estates too. The one we live in is the spring estate. Ah, here we go. Found it."

"That looks a bit, um… Are you sure about using these things?"

Sybil put it down and hugged her husband.

"I'm sorry, this is supposed to be about you."

"No, don't be sorry."

"Should I try something else first?"

Sam trembled. He didn't think it would get this far. He mostly shared the list with Sybil because he'd lose his nerve if he didn't. Sam never imagined that Sybil would be so open about this, excited even. It just made no sense to him how she could possibly like some of the same things as that awful woman.

He was suddenly overcome with the fear that Sybil was not who he thought she was, that this was the price he had to pay in exchange for her love. He had to—

Sybil's soft arms wrapped around him. Her eyes brought him out of the fear so quickly it felt unreal.

"Are you okay?" she asked. Her voice was comforting and concerned, but her face wore a hopeful smile.

_That smile… how does she do that?_

Sam blushed. His worries were completely unfounded, a fact that prompted a different kind of fear.

"I'd like you to…" the last of the sentence was too quiet to hear.

"What was that?"

"I want you to… hold my hands together..."

"Like with a rope?"

A look of horror darted across Sam's face. He blinked to clear the image and shook his head like he was trying to dislodge it from his ears. He looked at Sybil's apologetic expression and calmed down.

"Not that. I meant with something more familiar."

Sam reached into his bag and retrieved something metallic and vaguely ring shaped. He held it in both hands so Sybil couldn't see until he came closer.

"Are those your handcuffs?"

"Yes," said Sam a little embarrassed.

"Isn't that even more restrictive than rope? You can't untie metal."

"I know but I would feel more comfortable with them. I'm used to handcuffs. I carry them with me every day on the job. I know how to use them and how they work. I just want to try."

Sam sat down on the edge of the bed and looked up at her. Sybil sighed and took the cuffs from him.

"All right, but only in front. You're not a criminal and I'm not going to treat you like one. You're not a prisoner or a slave or anything like that. Not yet that is."

Sam smiled and looked at the floor. Sybil watched his ears turn red. He held out his shaking hands for her. She ignored them and rolled onto the bed. She pulled Sam down beside her and looked at his lightly flushed face. She kissed his lips gently and laced their fingers together. Sam relaxed and melted into her arms. Even without the cuffs, she held so much power over him. The pain in his heart subsided into a dull ache that pushed down on his lungs.

"No one's ever treated me like this before," he whispered sadly. "I never imagined I could do this with another person. You've been so careful with me even when I haven't given you anything in return. I really am sorry I'm such a coward. I'm sorry I haven't been able to give you what you want."

"You've given me plenty of things, Sam."

"But I haven't! If you had married someone else then you wouldn't have to go so slowly. You could have had someone who'll satisfy you, someone with more experience. I don't want you to have to wait for me to catch up to what you should have had to begin with. I can tell that you really love sex. I just wish I could give you more of it."

Sybil crossed her arms and rested them on Sam's chest. She laid her head on top and closed her eyes.

"I love you so much more than your cock. Of course I could take advantage of your love for me and force you to do things you're not comfortable with, but that would feel too much like rape to me."

"No, you're nothing like that! I'd do anything—"

Sybil put a finger on Sam's lips to quiet him.

"I want to do this right. I'm not being cautious just for you. I have reasons to go slowly too."

"Why? You always seem so excited. Why would you actually choose to hold back?"

"Because I'm making memories just like you are. I want to feel every one of your touches and remember them. I want to pay attention to everything. It's easier to remember if you do it slowly at first. Well, I do get all impatient if you tease me for too long but if you warn me ahead of time I can prepare. It's mean to wind me up like that without telling me what you want out of it. I'm perfectly fine with you touching me without having sex in mind. It gives me practice in holding back. I can't continue being such an amateur when you're so good at it. I'm not going to let you beat me."

The praise embarrassed Sam but made him smile nonetheless.

"Do you think I could do that now? I mean, just touch you with no expectations. It's hard to memorize your body in the heat of the moment."

Sybil laughed softly and kissed Sam. She took off her clothes and lay on the bed. All the lights were on so Sam could see everything. She held her arms close to her body.

"This is kind of awkward."

"But I've seen you naked before."

"Yeah but it's still awkward. I know I'm not very pretty."

"In all the world you are the only woman who thinks me worth smiling at. You are beautiful to me."

Sybil blushed madly. _No one ever says that. Words like that only show up in stupid romance novels. This can't be real._

"You don't mean that…"

Sam lay beside her and rubbed her belly.

"It's true. You're so soft and smooth. When you hold me, I feel like I could just drown in your warmth. Your body will always be perfect because you're inside it."

Sybil went quiet. Sam froze unsure of what he had done wrong.

"Why did you say that?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't know…"

"You don't have to lie like that. I don't need false flattery."

Sam didn't say anything for quite some time. When he did speak it was in the voice of Captain Vimes.

"I don't lie here. I've had enough with lies."

"That's not—"

"No."

Sam grabbed her wrist with a gentle pressure but the assurance of steel. Samuel Vimes stared into her eyes with firm conviction that reflected his inner laws.

"That was not a lie."

"But they're all lies, always only lies."

"You are beautiful."

"I'm not!"

"You are perfect."

"No!"

"I love you."

Sybil couldn't answer.

"I did not lie when I took the King's Shilling. I took an oath and I stood by it even when almost everyone else had left. Though I did not have the strength to enforce the city's law, I never lost my ability to withhold my own laws. I do not go back on my vows. Ever."

Sam let go of her wrist. His expression softened.

"I love you. That will always be true. That is, if you let me…"

Sybil pulled Sam into a desperate hug. She cried into his chest and pressed her body against him. Sam held her with the same gentle firmness as before.

The handcuffs lay discarded on the bed beside them. They would not be necessary. Ever.


	7. Chapter 7

A whole chapter from Sam's perspective? Hell Yeah!

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"I want to try again," said Sam softly. "Could you maybe touch me? I don't know if I can do it but I have to try. It's not something I can really avoid."

"Yes, touching your genitals is usually the whole point of sex," Sybil said with a lighthearted smile. "I'll wait here while you take your trousers off."

Sam's heart beat rapidly as he walked to the bathroom. This was a big thing. He had to trust her or else he'd never be able to give her what she should have received the night of their wedding.

_Why can't I do this? I've faced more life-threatening events than this. I shouldn't be so scared!_

Normally, Samuel Vimes could plow through fear with a well-placed dose of rage. He was good at being angry. It made him feel as if there was something right in the world. Humans are illogical like that.

Sam swallowed hard and took off his trousers. Even in the bathroom where Sybil couldn't see him, he felt exposed. He glanced at the floor beside the bathtub. Hiding wasn't an option anymore, but there was more than one thing he feared showing to Sybil. He didn't have to go out there Full Monty. He could keep his shirt on at least. That was a reassuring thought, but unless it had coattails, it wouldn't hide… Sam unconsciously shuffled one of his feet behind the other.

He searched the room for something, anything, that could help. A towel around his waist wouldn't do any good since he'd have to take it off. He slowly opened the bathroom door a tiny crack.

"Um… Sybil? Do you… have any bathrobes?"

"Yes, give me a minute to get them."

Through the slit in the door, Sam watched her leave the bedroom. He sighed in relief and closed it. As he waited, Sam tried to convince himself that what he was about to do was no big deal, but he had never been very good at persuasive arguments that didn't involve a crossbow. He sure as hell was _not_ going to bring a crossbow into this. Someone once told him that girls thought recurve bows were sexy. At that point in his life he would—

"Sam?"

Sybil's interruption gave him a jolt. He grabbed the door handle in case she tried to come in, but she just knocked politely.

"You said you wanted a robe?"

Sam encountered an unforeseen snag in his stroke of brilliance. He had to open the door to take the robe, but he was too scared to open the door without the robe on. Some people would call this a catch 22. In the privacy of his head, Sam used a much more colorful description.

Sam put his trousers back on, opened the door, and took the robe from Sybil. Only after he closed the door again did he realize that he could have just thrown a towel on and skipped the part where he tried to put both feet down the same leg. He groaned in defeat and put on the robe.

Sybil was waiting for him on the couch. She glanced up when he came in but quickly returned to staring at the floor.

"I'm worried," she said. "I don't really know what she did to you and I'd hate myself if I did the same." Sybil looked at the palms of her hands, slowly opening and closing her fingers. "Even an action that I see as normal could hurt you. I keep imagining her hands right where mine are."

"No, Sybil, you're not like her at all," said Sam, sitting down next to her.

The hint of uncertainty in his voice stabbed through Sybil's heart like a hot knife. She slowly reached out to untie his robe. She felt Sam flinch as she opened the front. He made a sound like a hiccup and thrust both his hands between his legs to stop her from going any further. His heart raced, and not in a good way.

Sybil put her hands in her lap.

"There has to be something," she said.

"There is a limit to the amount of ways someone can grab a man's dick, Sybil. I should know. I've had one all my life."

Sam's terror could be clearly seen behind the thin veneer of sarcasm. His body curled down into the defensive posture he used to cover his neck. Sybil wanted to hug him and tell him not to worry over it, but she held back. Any kind of touch at this moment could be a sign of expectations that Sam obviously could do without. She just wanted to comfort him.

Sybil sighed and looked down at her feet. A half-baked idea took seed in her mind.

"I could use my feet. You said you liked them, right?"

Sam's little lie had come back to bite him as a horrific memory rose to the surface of his mind like the sick lovechild of a ping pong ball and a depth charge.

"See, you can put your dick in the arch of my foot and I can just close over it with my other foot."

The awful memory deflated. This was far from what he was thinking about and there were no shoes involved. Sybil noticed his hesitation. She really thought she had struck gold on this idea but it had turned out to be just pyrite.

"I'm sorry. Now that I think of it, there are a lot of ways that feet can be just as bad as hands…"

"No it's… um." Sam didn't want to disappoint her and this was a much better option than any others. "Er, it's just that… your feet are a little rough." Yeah, that seemed like a plausible explanation. "I'll just go get some lotion."

When Sam returned, Sybil was sitting cross-legged on the bed looking at her hands again.

"You don't have to pretend to be so brave. I'd rather you'd be honest with me when you're scared."

"I'm not… Okay I'm scared but I'm always going to be scared! This isn't something I can do so easily. I just have to push through it. I can't carry this fear around with me my whole life!"

"And what makes you think pushing it away will help? You have to tell me or I'll keep on being scary and not know what to change."

"You're not scary!"

"Oh really?"

Sybil reached out her hand to move Sam's robe away. He instinctively recoiled.

"Okay you're a little but unsettling but certainly not scary. I can do this."

"Sam listen, if you grasp the nettle it still hurts. Imagine how much worse it would be to grasp it with your cock."

Sam's mouth hung open and he pulled his robe securely shut.

"There's an awful lot of Sam Vimes packed into such a small space," she said. "I'm even starting to doubt myself."

"This isn't helping, Sybil! You're just making me more scared!"

She hid her hands in her lap and looked down again. Sam cursed himself for being so crass. He sat down in front of her and touched her knee.

_Damn it, I made her afraid of me again!_

_Well at least she'll be more cautious._

_Do I really want her to have to be cautious around me? I'm the one who has to change not her! I just have to do what she wants._

_No, this isn't about that. It's about trust and familiarity. She wants me to feel safe._

_How the hell do I know what she wants? I don't understand women at all!_

_I could ask her._

"What is it you want from me?"

"I want you to feel safe around me," she answered.

_I knew it._

_Why do I have to be so damn logical?_

_Someone needs to watch me. Might as well be me. I'll be here so I don't have to worry so much._

_I'm not making any sense!_

_Of course I'm not. Everything that makes sense to me is wrong. I just have to do what I wish were right. I want to feel safe around her and she wants that too._

"I wish I could do this slowly," said the Guarding Dark. "I wish I knew what feet are really capable of so I know what it is that I'm actually afraid of."

_Can I really say that? I can always ask her, right?_

"Um, would that be something I could do?" Sam asked.

"Sure, it's a good idea. I could use a foot massage anyway."

Sam sighed with relief, yet he still felt awful as if asking her was wrong too. He slid his hand off Sybil's knee and raised his shoulders around his neck. The guilt pushed on his chest.

"No, I shouldn't have asked that. I'm sorry," Sam blurted out all at once. "I don't need that. I can go without… I can…"

Sam started shaking. He wasn't thinking about what she had said. He was thinking about what he knew she meant.

_I can't ask her to change for me! I'm not supposed to ask for things. I should be grateful for what I have already. I don't deserve any of this! I love her. I have to let her do what she wants!_

_She said she wanted a foot massage!_

_Just because the things she wants correspond with the things I want doesn't mean I'm being selfish, right? I could offer to do things that I'm comfortable with. Then I'm not requesting anything. I'll be giving something and she could always reject me._

_I'm good at being rejected…_

"Sam, are you okay?" Sybil asked.

Her words startled him back into reality, plain dull reality. Sam's head was a pretty scary place to be at times.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine! I've got this."

Sam grabbed the bottle of lotion while Sybil relaxed on the cushions. She turned on her side and put her legs into a figure four position. Sam kneeled at the end of her bent knee. It wasn't a very common set up. Sybil didn't tell him that she had chosen it so that he would be forced to sit closer to her. She hoped he didn't notice that he was now within reaching distance.

Sam had only given one foot massage in his whole life and that was because the man was getting frostbite. Was the technique different when it's not for medical reasons? It's not like he actually knew the procedure back then anyway. He decided it didn't matter and started to rub her foot.

"That tickles! You have to press harder."

Sam blushed at his mistake but kept going. He watched how the skin moved and how the little creases still showed even if he stretched them out. He noticed that he could move around the bones inside and she didn't mind it. It was a little creepy but fun at the same time. He pushed on each toe separately and heard Sybil stifle a giggle. Sam smiled at her reaction. That little sound made the fear in his chest float away. He put his finger between her toes.

"Stop that," she laughed.

Sam was caught in a conundrum. Sybil had just told him to stop, yet she was still smiling. Sybil shook her head at his uncertainty.

"You can't be so gentle between my toes. It tickles, but you have rough hands so it's not that bad."

"But didn't you say the other day that I had to learn to be gentler?"

"Well, yes, but there are always exceptions. This is one of them. Keep going. You're pretty good at this."

"I am?" said Sam incredulously.

"You are." Sybil suddenly remembered when he fingered her. "I mean, unless you don't want to be good at it. If it's something she taught you, then I don't want to force you."

"No, it's not like that. I just thought I would be bad at it."

"Have you found anything scary yet?"

"Um, your toenails are kind of sharp—" Sam caught himself. "I'm not saying that I don't like them! They're really pretty that way."

Sybil smiled and got off the bed. She gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

"I bet they could be much more beautiful though."

Sybil absconded into the bathroom, leaving Sam on the bed thoroughly confused and nervous about what he had just gotten himself into. He looked down and wondered if Sybil would be mad if he put his trousers back on.

Then he heard a sound that made his heart both sore and soar. It was the sound of water filling the bathtub. He scrambled out of bed and stopped in front of the bathroom door.

_What would happen if we're both in the tub together? What if she doesn't let me? Good gods, she'd be naked! That would be amazing! What the hell am I thinking? I can't do that! She would be… and I… Damn it!_

Sam's thoughts came to a screeching halt. All of that was meaningless. No matter how much he wanted to join her, he couldn't. He slid one of his feet behind the other and retied his robe securely around his waist.

The water abruptly stopped much sooner than expected. Sam listened intently at the door. After a while, he heard a series of small high-pitched clicks.

_Oh thank the gods! She's only clipping her toenails._

The relief was coupled with a tinge of disappointment. Even through the fear, he desperately wanted to lie in a warm bath with her. He tried to shake off the illusion, but the painful desire kept hold of him. He touched his shoulder where his scar began.

He had to show her. He had to ask…

_No, not yet. I just need to focus on what's happening right now. Feet, think about feet. Feet are safe._

Sybil suddenly opened the door and almost walked right into him. She smiled brightly and took his hand before giving him a deep loving kiss. The sensation of her lips and tongue sliced through his fear. She lay down on the bed and put out her feet so Sam could see.

"Very dainty, if I do say so myself," she said proudly. "I can kind of see why you like them so much." She turned on her side and dangled her ankles of the edge of the bed. "This way you can stay upright and have all the control."

"What?"

"You just place your dong there in the arch of my foot and I'll cover it with my other foot."

"That doesn't seem so bad… just don't move and keep your other foot away and don't watch and… and… Do you have any more paperwork? That might help."

"No," said Sybil trying not to laugh. "I have a book though."

Sam positioned himself at her feet. He glanced up at Sybil to make sure she wasn't looking, before he placed a hand on her foot. He heard Sybil make the smallest of sounds, but when he looked up, she was reading her book as if nothing had happened.

_Okay, all I have to do is let her touch me._

_No, I'm the one touching her. She's not going to do anything. She's just going to let me touch her with my dick? That's kind of nasty._

_I have to do this. She set this all up so that I would have control. I can't back out now._

_She did seem happy to show me her feet though. Does she like that attention or is this just something she's doing for me?_

_Does this mean I have a foot fetish now?_

"I do _not_ have a foot fetish!"

"Oh so that's why you're hesitating so much?" said Sybil. "I was starting to worry that it was something worse than that."

_Damn it! I said that out loud!_

Sybil put down her book and moved over so she could kiss Sam. All other thoughts disappeared from his head to be replaced by the warm softness of her tongue. He melted into her arms and let her lead him onto the bed. When the kiss broke, he slowly opened his eyes and saw her kind face. It made his chest hurt to see her looking at him that way, the beautiful dream that shouldn't be there for him. Her unconditional love choked him. She kissed him again. It was much gentler than he deserved. He so desperately wanted more but each loving touch made him feel like crying.

Sam gave up and let the pain have free reign over his body. He turned himself over to Sybil ready to do whatever she asked of him. He stopped fighting and blocked out his thoughts so the pain could not get to him. She kissed him once more and pulled him closer. When he opened his eyes, she was hovering over him with that same expression.

Sam felt her pass her fingers through his hair. The fear and pain couldn't reach him, but neither could the love and pleasure. He didn't even look at her as she slid her hand down her stomach to his crotch. He stared at the ceiling with unseeing eyes. The past played back in his mind. His head filled with all the horrible things that she would do next. That woman… He could hear his own screams… the guilt, the overpowering guilt… useless monster.

He suddenly felt Sybil blow a puff of air into his eyes. He blinked and returned to reality. Sybil looked at him with panicking eyes.

"Sam, say something. Tell me, um, tell me what street the Mended Drum is on."

Sam only cried in response.

"Um, which side of the palace is the Oblong Office?"

Sam looked at her. His breath shuddered as he tried to focus. Sybil stumbled trying to find another question.

"What's the name of the city's hangman?"

"Trooper…"

Sybil started to calm down.

"How much money has Nobby stolen from the watch?"

"This year or just on average?"

"Can I let go of your crotch now please?"

The urgency in her voice yanked Sam back into reality. He nodded and let Sybil pull him up and off the bed. She led him downstairs and out into the garden. The light seemed much too bright.

"Look at that," she said a little irritated. "The gardener has been slacking. I know the house doesn't normally have tenants this time of year but that's no reason to let everything get all messy."

She looked at him with a mixture of fear and hope. She took his trembling hand and led him to a garden shed. She handed Sam a pair of shears.

"You'll have to help me get it all back to normal," She said trying to smile.

Sam looked down at the shears gratefully. He smiled morosely and let out a sad little laugh. His hands were shaking too much for them to be of any use. The whole situation was stupid and contrived, and for some reason it was funny. He laughed a little more and tossed the tool away. He hugged Sybil tightly. The laughter turned to tears. He leaned on her for support.

Sam didn't notice that Sybil was leaning on him too.

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Did I seriously leave a phone messae here? please dont let anyone mess with it.


	8. Chapter 8

I made a few changes so that the switch between Sam's and Sybil's perspectives is clearer. I also added a different ending. I'd like to say that if you find any errors then be sure to tell me.

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-If you do something for a good reason, you will eventually do it for a bad reason.-

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This was even scarier than when he proposed to Sybil but back then he had the help of liquid courage. This time alcohol wasn't an option. He made a promise. Now he wished he hadn't.

Sam found the wine cellar and stepped inside. The guilt of just being there was already pressing on his shoulders. He searched for something cheap or at least recognizable but most of the labels had lots of swirly lines and gold ink. If he wasn't careful, he could end up drinking some rare vintage thousand-dollar wine from the Agetean Empire.

Eventually, he just found some cooking sherry from the kitchen. He grabbed a glass and sat down at the table. He stared at it. You know there's something wrong when you can't get the courage to drink the alcohol to give you the courage to do something else entirely. Sam got up and returned with a measuring cup.

The promise had been very specific: don't drink alcohol. However in this situation, he couldn't do that. He wasn't doing this so he could hide from his problems. Well, he was, but this was different, right?

Sam made the conscious decision to drink a precise amount of alcohol that he predetermined while he was still completely sober. He knew he was cheating, but it was for a good reason.

Once it was gone, he felt it had not been nearly enough.

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Sybil sat at her davenport writing in a little pink book. It was a diary of sorts. She didn't write in it every day though. Sometimes she drew sketches of dragons and such, but there were also crude drawings of Sam. She wasn't good at drawing people. She never had the desire to, but now she had found a man worth failing to draw.

It was then that Sam opened the bedroom door. She hurriedly snapped it shut as soon as she heard him come in.

Sybil stashed away the book and stood up as if she had just hidden a secret stock of narcotics. She took her husband's hand and gave him a concerned look. Sybil noticed his fearful face and lowered sleeve and put two and two together. She hugged his covered shoulder careful not to touch his skin.

"I'm sorry, Sam," she said. "I shouldn't have been so casual when I touched your back before. Do you think you could let me try again?"

Sam didn't answer. He seemed paralyzed with fear. Sybil smelled the alcohol on his breath and knew he had come up here just for this. She lifted his chin so she could see his face. He wore an expression of wide-eyed terror. Sybil took that as a no.

"Well, hypothetically," she said. "If you were to allow a person to touch your back, then said nameless person would have to follow certain rules. This is purely conjecture, but if somehow I could learn the rules then I should be able to replicate the results."

"What?" said Sam, snapping out of his reverie.

"I'm serious, go lie down."

Sam thoroughly confused and trembling all over, lay down on is stomach. Sybil met him in the middle of the bed from the other side.

"All right, what are the rules?" asked Sybil.

Sam looked at her in the same way people look at clowns. He buried his face in the pillow in hopes that it would help somehow. It didn't.

"Sam?"

"Don't move." Sam said the words like they should be followed by 'drop the weapon and turn around slowly.'

Sybil stayed perfectly still.

"And?"

"I'm thinking," said Sam. "This isn't something that comes easily to me." Eventually he turned his head towards her. His eyes looked hazy and distant. "Just do it." He shut his eyes and tried to relax.

Sybil gently placed her hand on Sam's shoulder and waited until he stopped shuddering. She ran her hand delicately down his back slowly pausing here and there to explore any particularly interesting spots. The alcohol calmed him just enough to stop Sam from running. He focused on how good it felt instead. He moaned and arched his back.

"That's… no one's ever… Oh please do that again."

Sybil smiled and started at the top again.

"How far down does it go?" she asked and paused at the small of his back.

Sam took a moment to settle his breath before he turned and untied the knot in the fabric belt of his robe. He raised his body to allow Sybil to pull the right side out from under him. Sybil kept him covered. Partially out of respect in case he wanted to stop, but mostly because she didn't want to ruin the surprise.

_That's awful. I shouldn't be thinking like that._

She ran her hand over the burn mark and slowed as she approached the edge of the fabric. Her fingers inched under the robe. She could feel his muscles contract at her touch. She slid her hand over his cheek pausing for a playful squeeze. Her husband smiled at the gesture but cringed as she moved her hand lower. The tips of her fingers had brushed too close to his crotch and he recoiled defensively.

"Sorry," she said pulling her hand away.

Sam looked as if he was contemplating stopping this, but slowly relaxed.

"It's alright. It just startled me. That's all."

Sybil let out a silent sigh of relief and instantly forgave him for drinking.

_I thought I had lost him on that one._

She continued down his thigh.

_How far does this burn go? How the hell did he get a wound like this?_

The scaring became worse the lower she touched. Sam tensed up and started shaking. Sybil kept going but at a slower pace. He whimpered faintly and inadvertently twisted away.

"Should I stop?"

"No," he whispered without much conviction.

Sybil was doubtful. "I don't want to force you."

Abruptly, Sam yanked the robe away. On the back of his thigh just above the knee was a truly hideous mark, the origin of the burn that spanned almost the full length of his body. Sybil held back a gasp. Sam turned on his side and tried to cover it with his other foot. His body was fighting a battle between keeping the mark visible for her and his natural impulse to curl up in a little ball and hide until the bobcat has gone away. Sybil caressed his hip gently.

"It's okay, Sam. I won't touch it."

_I am going to kill that woman! No, death is too kind for her! I'm stealing Havelock's scorpion pit!_

Sam's breath came quickly and erratically. He grasped Sybil's hand much too loosely to actually prevent her from doing anything but she had planned on stopping anyway. From where she sat, she couldn't see her husband's face, but his shaking hands gave her a clear message. She let Sam hold her still until he calmed down.

"Please," he murmured, "I… I know it's selfish and… I shouldn't…" Sam trailed off.

"What is it?"

Sam's defensive instincts were taking over. He bent his knees to hide the marks and held Sybil's hand tighter.

"It's just… I…"

Sybil could tell he had something important to say and she wasn't about to dismiss him. That would be disrespectful, not to mention counterproductive. She waited patiently for him to continue. After a while, Sam anxiously extended his burnt leg. He swallowed.

"I know it's a lot to ask, but… will you touch it? Even just a little?" he whispered on the edge of hearing. "You… don't have to."

A heavy feeling settled in her stomach as Sam let go of her hand.

"You mean it?" she asked.

The back of Sam's head nodded.

Sybil touched the middle of his calf, a safe spot well away from the burn. Sam cringed anyway. She carefully worked her way up his leg. It was hairy, a welcome change from the unnatural texture of the scar. She paused at the top of his calf to chase away her doubts and slowly stroked the edge just above his knee.

Sam gasped and locked the joint exposing it fully. He was shivering and holding his breath. Sybil moved her fingers closer to the middle. Sam pulled his other leg up to his chest and hugged it fiercely.

"Does it hurt?"

Sam shook his head. His scar tissue dipped in abnormally. The original wound must have been severe enough to require surgery. The doctors in Ankh-Morpork were known for their dismal patient survival rate. She was surprised he could still stand.

Sybil gently dipped her fingers into the hollow, making slow circles while Sam cried. She placed her palm over the worst of it so she could feel it all at once.

"Stop," Sam cringed "let go."

Sybil complied and Sam turned over to his other side so he could face her. She saw the pain and fear in his expression. Sam wrapped his arm around her and pulled her down in front of him. He took her hand and guided it back to his scar. His legs closed over it trapping her hand. He clasped her body desperately and started sobbing. She hugged him with her free arm and he shifted closer to her.

"Don't let go, please don't let go… Please… it hurts. I'm sorry, don't leave me. Please, I can't be alone again! I can't do it anymore! … I'm sorry…"

"I promise I will still be here tomorrow," said Sybil.

"It's a lie! It has to be. You've been lying all this time."

"No, I'm serious. I have nothing better to do tomorrow than stay here with you. I've actually cleared my schedule just in case you wanted to, I don't know, spend some time with me."

"A joke then?"

"Sam, all of humanity is a joke. It's best just to play along and laugh a bit on the way." Sybil smiled warmly and kissed the tip of his nose.

"Does that mean you'll let me stay with you?" he asked.

"Of course it does. We went over this before. I love you. You make me smile. That's more than anyone else has given me," she said.

Sybil kissed her husband's eyelids and brushed away some of his tears.

"I'm here," she said tenderly. "I'm not going anywhere."

Sam loosened his grip on her hand and set it free. Sybil followed his scar along his leg, butt, and back. He straightened his legs and let her close the remaining gaps between their bodies. She could feel his bare skin pressing up against her. She resented the fact that she was still wearing clothes.

_Gods damn it, I shouldn't be getting aroused from touching a man who is shaking and crying inconsolably!_

Sybil hastily ceased that train of thought and forced herself to relax. She remembered how scared she had been when Sam had disappeared and how hard it was to let him come back on his own terms. The thought of losing him again was unbearable. The feeling of arousal abated and she returned to comforting Sam.

Sam wouldn't say anything. This angel in his arms could not possibly be there. She was a glimpse of happiness, a taunt from fate, before reality caught up with him and took her away. Stories like this don't come true for someone like him.


	9. Chapter 9

Fluff chapter! They are so darn cute together!

Right, everyone, remember that a boathouse and a houseboat are two totally different things.

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Sam sat with his wife eating a meal that she had prepared. It wasn't all that good, but Sam wasn't paying attention enough for it to matter. He was lost in his thoughts.

_I can't keep running from her. I want to do this slowly but I don't want her to get bored of waiting. I have to take initiative or else she'll suggest something that I can't do. Then I'll have to run away again because I don't want to have to say no to her. If I could distract her with things that I'm comfortable with, then maybe she might be more patient._

_I've got to think of something suitably romantic but not likely to lead to something too drastic._

* * *

Sam and Sybil stood in the kitchen washing dishes. She washed and he dried. There wasn't any particular reason for this arrangement. Sybil simply thought it should be like that so it was.

Sam put down a plate and picked up another one.

"Um, so I noticed there's a lake nearby…" he said, focusing intently on the dish. "And I was wondering if we could maybe go see it, you know, together."

He glanced over at her. Sybil's eyes sparkled at the idea. She grabbed both his hands.

"Perfect, let's go find the swimsuits!"

"Swimsuits? But I can't swim."

"Well now is a good time to learn."

She quickly led him into a seemingly arbitrary room. Sam blinked as she thrust a swimsuit into his hand. He hadn't expected her to get so excited. He even had an alternate plan if she refused. A little walk around the lake seemed like a good idea. Swimming hadn't even crossed his mind. Now he had to back it up. He unfolded the piece of clothing. It was what wrestlers call a singlet.

"I can't go swimming in this!" said Sam. "It barely covers anything!"

"Well, what did you expect? You can't go swimming in normal clothes. They weigh you down too much when they get wet."

The swimsuit was all one piece with shorts and a sleeveless top that was so low cut that it would have only barely covered his nipples. To top it all off, it was skin-tight!

"I understand that," he said scowling, "but this is just indecent."

Sam looked over the selection of swimwear. He noticed one that looked like a dress with trousers underneath.

"Can't I just wear that one?"

"That's grandmother's bathing suit!"

"At least it will cover my legs better."

"There's no one around. No one will see you."

"What about that one? They looked a bit like striped skivvies."

"That was my father's when he was young. You might be able to fit. Try it on."

Sam made her turn around while he changed.

"It covers the top but not the bottom," he said.

Sybil stepped behind him to check.

"Oh don't be such a baby. They're long enough."

"But look, you can see it."

Sybil knew he was right. She just really wanted to see him in the sports singlet.

"Alright fine," she sighed in defeat. "I'll wrap it up with a bandage."

Sam let her touch his leg. She wasn't disgusted about it or anything. That made him smile.

* * *

Sybil had chosen a sleeveless number with a short skirt, bloomers, and a sailor collar. She removed her wig and jumped in off the end of the pier. The splash was large enough to get Sam wet but he didn't get in.

"Come on," said Sybil. "It's not that cold."

"You say that, but is it safe?" Sam glared at the water cynically.

"Of course it's safe. I don't do dangerous things."

Sam looked at her accusingly.

"Ok fine, I do dangerous things but I always know the risks and prepare accordingly. Now get in the water."

Sam had seen the ocean and there was a pond at Hide Park but he never had any inclination to go inside. He'd retrieved a few dead bodies out of that water and the prospect of willingly jumping into something like that was ludicrous. He sat on the edge of the pier and dangled his feet over the edge. The water didn't look solid enough to him. Perhaps that was a good thing. Sam had lived in Ankh-Morpork all his life. No one swam in the Ankh of their own volition. Baths had been the extent of his swimming knowledge.

"I um… don't know how to swim."

"You're going to need to fix that," said Sybil. "What if you fall into river rapids? It could save your life."

"I don't think I will ever have to worry about fast-moving water, Sybil. Swimming isn't all that important."*

Sybil swam up to where Sam was sitting. By the time she got there she was walking on the bottom of the lake so her shoulders were above the waterline. Sam couldn't help looking down her cleavage. They were right there, all snug in a swimsuit that was a bit too small for her, floating just barely above the water so that the waves in the lake washed over them and flowed around them. It was hypnotic. The little rivulets of water draining down into her—

"Sam, are you paying attention?"

"Yes, lots of attention."

Sybil laughed and covered her chest.

"You know it's much easier to 'pay attention' when you're in the water with me."

She tickled his foot. He pulled it up and leered at her. She tickled the other one. He sat on the dock with his knees bent. Sybil waded towards the shore and opened the bag she had brought with them.

"Come here Sam I need you to try this on."

That was a phrase that should not be taken lightly, especially around Sybil. He walked to the start of the pier and peeked at what she was taking out of the bag. They looked like those special glasses that jewelers wear.

She splashed back into the water and beckoned him to join her. It was a little more than waist deep. She took his hand and pulled him deeper. She strapped the goggles around her head and ducked under the water briefly.

"They still work." Sybil said happily.

She took hers off and put them over Sam's eyes. They didn't quite stick to his head properly at first because his face was dry but eventually it worked. Sybil touched his forehead lightly trying to move strands of his hair out of the rubber seal. She kept on going for a few seconds even after they were all gone.

She put on the other set of goggles and dunked her head underwater. It was kind of murky because they had been stirring up sediment, but she could still see a good distance. Sam was waiting for her when she surfaced. She pulled him sideways into a clearer part of the lake.

"Alright, all you have to do is put your head underwater then open your eyes."

Opening your eyes underwater in the city could result in losing your eyeballs. Sam had opened his eyes in a bath once and it hurt too.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah the seal is tight so you'll be fine."

Sam crouched down and disappeared under the waves. The sound of his own thoughts filled the silence in his ears. He slowly opened his eyes.

_Oh…_

It was otherworldly. Such an eerie place hiding under an unsuspecting lake like a pothole in a puddle. Everything felt slow and weightless. The sun filtered through the trees above and formed rays of light that glinted off of tiny particles in the water. It was the most beautiful nightmare her ever had. He surfaced quickly, scowling.

"What do you think?" asked Sybil.

"I think I never want to try that in the Ankh."

The two of them moved to a different spot, still in the shallows but a little further in and closer to the pier. Sam went underwater again. It was brighter out from under the trees. He could see fish moving like smoke. Their scales glittered as their bodies moved. The sunlight passed through their fins like living stained glass. They followed each other, moving in formation, turning on a precise unspoken cue of the collective. They were like soldiers and dancers and flags and birds and cats all in different ways. It was unreal. And all the while, he felt the sensation of weightlessness and slowly echoing silence. Even his hair felt like it could swim away at any second.

Then he saw the most amazing thing. Sybil swam underwater towards the fish and they all scattered. She turned around and smiled at him. The resistance of the water pulled lightly on her short brown hair. When she stopped moving, it floated past her and billowed outwards until it fanned out around her face. When the light passed through her hair, it glowed like a bronze halo. In those few short seconds, Sam lost all feeling of self. All that existed was her as she swam towards him. She picked him up.

His face broke the surface and the dream state shattered. He gasped and coughed in her arms and roughly pulled off his goggles. She tried to kiss him but the hard lenses hit his eyebrow. He recoiled and grasped his face in pain.

"I'm so sorry, Sam. Let me. Let me see it," said Sybil as she quickly pushed back her goggles.

Sam grudgingly removed his hands. Sybil smiled and kissed his brow.

"It's not bleeding. You'll be okay," said Sybil looking at him shyly. "It's just that when I saw you there floating underwater, your hair looked so soft and I couldn't help myself."

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* [Lol, situational irony.]

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Sybil floated on her back and let herself drift into the shade of the trees. It was so calming looking through the leaves and seeing the bright green against the blue cloudless sky. The silence underwater was suddenly broken by the sound of splashing. She pulled herself upright to find Sam frantically dogpaddling towards her. She laughed and met him halfway or a bit more than halfway as it was.

He clamped his arms around her. It was a bad move because both of them stared to sink. Sam let go and continued paddling. It was easier with her supporting him though. He let her tow him back to the shallows. It was a good representation of a healthy relationship but at that point they didn't catch on.

As soon as Sam's feet touched the bottom, he let go of Sybil and walked by himself.*

"How were you doing that?" asked Sam as soon as he could breathe properly.

"I was holding your suit and swimming with my other hand and feet."

"No I meant before that."

"I was just floating. You lie on your back."

"I tried that! It didn't work."

"Floating is all about relaxing. It's hard to do if you're scared of drowning."

"I'm not scared!"

It was true in a way. Sam had been much more scared in his life, so much that his definition of frightening was a bit skewed. Even so, he was lying.

"The thing is that you're trying too hard," said Sybil. "You don't have to use so much force all the time. It's a bit like what I taught to you about drawing only with your whole body. Watch this, if I relax upright in the water, I don't sink all the way."

She showed him then came back up so her ears were out of the water.

"That's only a few inches difference and I'm barely doing anything," she told him. "Put your goggles back on and watch me underwater."

It was an enticing idea. Sam crouched in the shallows and watched her move her arms and legs in the delicate patterns of a dancer.

"I can't do that!"

"You can. You just push at the water with your hands cupped. Here, hold on to me and bend your legs so you're not touching the ground anymore."

He waded over to her and hugged her firmly. When he bent his knees, his body stiffened and his grip almost crushed her. She tried to stay there and hold him up until he relaxed but the pain was too much.

"You can't hold me that tightly. It hurts."

"Sorry. I didn't know."

He put his feet down on the lake floor and removed his hands. Sybil slid off her goggles and took his also. She hung them on her arm so her hands were free when she kissed him. She hugged him tenderly and pulled him close. He could feel her skin against him and the thin fabric of the swimsuit was all that lay between them. For Sam, it was both comforting and frustrating. Then again everything about Sybil was complicated so this wasn't anything out of the ordinary. He held her shoulders and unexpectedly pushed her away. He looked around frantically.

"I don't think anyone saw us," Sybil said. "This is private property."

"That doesn't stop people from being here illegally."

"We have a boathouse you know. Come with me."

She picked him up princess style and started wading over to a little house that looked like a cross between a shed and a wharf. Sam went stiff and clung to her.

"Hey, I can walk on my own! Put me down!"

She held him closer and touched her forehead to his. Her eyes were gentle.

"What if I don't want to? Relax; you're not heavy at all. I can carry you just fine."

"Are you sure?" he asked, clearly unfamiliar with this sort of thing.

"Quite sure, I could probably hold you like this on land for a few seconds. Now relax and let me hold you up."

Sam looked around just in case. Sybil was a modern lady. Maybe this was common. He never really paid attention to people's private lives. Sam frowned and willed himself to relax. He focused on Sybil and how soft she her body was. He felt the weightlessness of the water combine with her movements. The tension in his body unwound. It was extraordinary, the sensation of flying.

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*[It's strange how allegorical swimming can be. You know how if you're swimming in the pool and you're sinking, you can choose to sink more so you can push yourself off the bottom? That's the American healthcare system.]

* * *

Sybil brought Sam into the docking area between the piers in the boathouse and closed the doors over the water. She put her arms around his shoulders and held him close. Satisfied with their level of privacy, Sam leaned into her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He gave her a soft loving kiss that blew away all her other thoughts. She melted into him and let him support her as she floated. It was the magical feeling that she had wanted to share with Sam. She looked up at him with soft eyes. His face looked anxious and happy at the same time. He held her up by her bottom and gave her another warm kiss. Sybil wrapped her legs around his hips. Sam started to shake a little and Sybil broke away.

"Sorry," she said. "I got a bit unfocused. Maybe we should get out of the water for a while."

They climbed a ladder up to the decking. There was a storage area to the side. It held canoes so they could stay dry. Sam went in there since it was the most enclosed space in the boathouse.

"Oh, you found the canoes," said Sybil. "They take two people to work properly. It's a little tricky when you first start out, but it gets easier with practice. A lot of things are like that."

She stood beside him and held his hand. She blushed and looked down.

"Um, do you think you could do something for me?"

Sam looked at her. She was so cute when she smiled like that. He really couldn't say no to that.

"Maybe," he said as if he had a choice.

"Will you maybe let me see you naked like I did for you?" Sybil asked.

_She had to ask for something like that._

"I don't really think…"

"Please? I promise. I just want to look. It would probably feel better for you anyway. That looks suit looks a bit tight."

Sam put his hands over his crotch.

"But it's ugly," he said.

"It would be weird if it wasn't ugly."

Sam steadied his nerves. He made her turn around as he took the suit off. It made absolutely no sense, but Sybil followed his instruction until he was ready. He stayed standing. He felt more in control that way.

Sybil kneeled down in front of him. He could see her cleavage stuffed in her old swimsuit, stretching the fabric taught. She didn't touch him but he swore he could feel her breath on his twig and berries. Even having her look at him so intently made him nervous.

Suddenly it became too much.

"Wait stop," he said.

Sybil stopped. She wasn't going to ruin it this time.

Sam scrambled to the edge of the boathouse dock, tripped, and toppled over it into the water. He could have sworn he heard the water hiss as it cooled him down. He waded into deeper waters while still hiding under the wharf. He heard a splash from behind him and yelped. He flailed in the water desperately trying to get to the shore. Without thought of his bare bum, he ran full tilt back to the mansion*. This was not the first time Sam Vimes had gone streaking. It wasn't even the first time he was sober while doing it^. It was one of those skills that he never thought would come in handy. Little did he know this would not be the last time he needed it.

[*Rincewind would have been proud]

[^That woman underestimated Sam's experience in streaking.]

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Review please maybe? I like comments.


	10. Chapter 10

Damn, I'm sorry I'm drawing this out so much. I really didn't intend for this chapter to come out like this, but I felt that I needed to. I think I might have to change some of some other chapters because of this. You know how sometimes in Solviet Russia the book writes you? That happens to me a lot.

There will only be two more chapters. I'm worried about the smut. I have to make it tasteful yet still fulfilling. It has to be fluff but still descriptive. It can't be too explicit but not too vague. The thing is, I get around describing things by using dialogue to imply things that are happening. With sex, the words get in the way. Neither of them are the type to do dirty talk and I wouldn't have them do that the first time anyway. I need to make use of small details and subtle movements. I'm just not as good at that as Lost timemachine is.

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Sybil snuggled up to Sam on the bed. She told him she had no intention of hanky panky and Sam was fine with that. In her arms, with no expectations, he felt safe to think the things he didn't want to remember. Sybil was the only person who could ease this type of pain.

"What's on your mind?" asked Sybil.

"Nothing," he said.

"Really?"

"You wouldn't like it…" said Sam.

"Even if I don't like it, I still want to hear it."

"It's just hard to say. I don't want you to think that I'm… I'm not like that."

"I promise, I will not judge you if you tell me."

"I… I need to tell you," Sam stammered quietly. Sybil could barely hear. "I'm sorry, I just can't. Please don't be mad…"

Old memories clouded his head. Uncertainty made him afraid that it was all a drunken dream. He pressed his body into her soft skin desperately trying not to lose the ephemeral illusion of a woman who could never exist in his life.

"Sam?"

Sybil's voice brought his mind back to him. The doubt and guilt surfaced again. He was so sure of her love before, but now he held her tightly as if she would melt away at any second.

"I want to tell you more," he said. "I want you to know, but I can't. It hurts too much."

"It's okay," said Sybil. "I'll be here. You don't need to tell me right now, or ever for that matter."

He wanted to be a part of her so she wouldn't disappear. He wanted to be inside her and stay in her love forever. His body wasn't enough. He wished he could sink past her skin and be completely covered by her. He wanted to hide inside her and let her pick apart his soul piece by piece.

He wanted her.

_No, I can't! I'll lose myself! I'll lose control. I can feel the pressure pushing out on my chest. I can't let that out. I can't make her feel that pain._

He wanted to believe that she could wash away all the horrible things he had seen in his life. He wanted the fantasy to be real. He wanted these things so much, but he knew he would never deserve them.

_Can't I watch myself? A small piece that I put aside, a part of myself to keep the darkness in._

_Can I really trust myself?_

Sybil moved and hovered over Sam. She touched his cheek gently and pulled him out of his thoughts. Her mysterious skill diffused the worry caused by his internal dialogue.

"You look pretty like that," she said.

He looked up at her confused and a little embarrassed.

"Um… I don't think I've ever been called pretty by anyone who wasn't holding a knife."

"Well there's a first time for everything. I think you're beautiful."

"Men aren't beautiful Sybil, especially not me."

"But you look so nice lying there with that light flush to your cheeks. I like the way your chest raises and falls and how it speeds up when you're excited. I love that soft look in your eyes that you only show to me when I can see your lids half closed. I love how you shrug your shoulders when I try to touch your neck. I feel like I could draw a line through all the little scars on your body and draw a picture."

"Um…"

"Oh hush, I'm winging it here. The point is that you're beautiful and there's nothing you can do about it."

* * *

Sam came out of the bathroom in his pajamas. He noticed Sybil sitting on the bed in her nightie staring at the ceiling. She looked nervous.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked.

"I'm just thinking."

Sam got into bed. The pillows were so soft. He looked over at Sybil's back. He wanted to know what she was so worried about, but he was afraid that he already knew the answer.

"Will you show me what I can do?" asked Sybil. "I have to know. Please?"

Sam swallowed hard. Sybil turned around to face him.

"I got to look at you but you ran off. I need to know how I can touch you. I passed some boundary, but I don't even know what it was. Will you let me try again?"

The perpetual weight in Sam's stomach doubled. He had hurt her and now she thought it was her fault. Sam's frown made Sybil's hopes fade. She didn't expect him to stand up.

"Will you turn around?" he asked.

Sam watched her follow his request. It was so strange that a woman like her would be at all respectful towards him. He took a breath and removed his pajamas. He felt cold and exposed, even more so than in the boathouse. There he could escape. There he had her word that she wouldn't touch him, but now he had to. Now he chose to. The fear churned in his chest, as he reached out to tap her shoulder.

When she turned around, he couldn't look her in the eye. He tried, but the highest he got was her chest. Even though her breasts were barely covered by her negligée, he wasn't thinking about them. He wasn't thinking about anything, because he knew that his thoughts would be incomprehensible anyway.

He stood firm and tried to separate himself from his body just as he had done years ago when that woman had broken his sense of self. It hurt but back then he had forced himself not to care that it hurt. His body meant nothing. It was all he could do to cope. Now he called upon that skill out of desperation. He had to hide the things that he would normally use alcohol to block out. He readied himself to let Sybil touch him as she liked.

_This is what you want. _Sam thought_. You want her to touch you. You want to do those dirty things to her. You love her right? Let her have what you've been keeping from her._

_Not like this._ A small voice in his head whispered in his ear.

_You can't keep her waiting anymore. You'll lose her. You can't be selfish._

_I don't want this! This isn't right._

_You have already taken too much time! This is how it should be. You're her husband. You're a man. You want this so much. Just let it happen. _

_No! Sybil isn't like that woman! She's not like anyone!_

_You want her to stay with you. You have to make her happy._

_I can't let it happen like this! I have to watch myself!_

The Guarding Dark started to cry. The tears silently dripped down the blank face of Samuel Vimes.

_You… I… can't. I won't! I want to do this right! I want to know how it should have been._

_I trust myself. I just need to listen._

Sam felt the soft touch of an angel on his cheek, those hands that could pull him so gently back into the monotonous realm of reality where time passes and people forget. She brought him back to a bland world of taxes and paperwork, of burnt food and smelly socks, of window washers and pushy salesmen. It was a world where the years separated him from his memories once again. It was the place where Sybil lived.

"Open your eyes, Sam."

Sam threw his arms around her. He didn't care that he was naked or that Sybil was not hugging him back. The only thing that mattered was that she was real.

"Is… is it okay for me… to hug you?" Sybil stuttered.

"Don't ever let go."

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[Why am I crying about something I'm writing myself? This must be how the guy who wrote My Little Dashie felt.]

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Her kindness was surreal. She could have easily taken advantage of him last night. Just a little push and he would have done everything and anything she asked. He had been one step away from losing himself and she stopped him. He had stopped himself. He wanted to give her the love she deserved, not just the passion his body wanted. He needed to trust her and he had to do it quick because he had slept all night beside her naked. She didn't say anything, but that just made him feel worse.

"Sybil?" he said. "I didn't do it right. I was hiding. I… need to do this slowly, piece by piece."

"I can do that," she said with a faint smile. "Piece by piece, until I know."

Sam took off his clothes. Sybil tried hard to take this seriously and not simply smother him as payback for last night's frustrating lack of sleep. She wanted to take him whole but piece by piece would work too. She faced him on the bed and placed a hand on the back of his neck.

"Is it okay for me to touch you here?" Sybil asked.

"I suppose so…" he said.

Her hands were so soft and gentle. A weight settled into Sam's stomach, but he let her continue. He wanted to feel her just a little longer.

"What about here?" Sybil asked. "You let me touch you there before."

"I'm perfectly fine with that, but you should warn me before you touch the scar."

"Here?"

"Um… I'd rather you not. It's okay if you brush over it but don't go spending any attention on it."

"How about here?"

Sam smiled.

"Yes. That's nice."

"Can I do this then?"

Sybil squeezed his butt making Sam smile even wider.

"Yes you can definitely do that," he said.

"How close can I get in the middle? Is this okay?"

"Yes, just don't go any lower than that, but you can get closer on the side if you want. I don't mind that."

"How far can I go without your guidance?"

"Maybe here… Wait, don't move."

Sam shifted her hands and let go.

"There, I'm comfortable with that," he told her.

"Can I move like this? How about this?"

"Those are fine."

"And this?"

"No! Stop it!"

Sybil froze her hands and waited. Sam moved her hands a little to the side.

"You can only do that to here. Nothing closer."

"I understand."

"But you can only do this when I'm here, don't move."

Sybil decided not to question his logic about touching him only when he's there.

"I won't."

"Don't move."

"I'm not."

"Just stay."

He started to tremble. Sybil looked up at Sam's face. His eyes were shut tightly and his shoulders were covering his neck.

"Open your eyes Sam."

"I can't! You're almost touching my asshole! Don't move!"

"Will you help me let go?" Sybil asked.

He was all too eager to do that. He pushed her hand onto the bed and held it there just to make sure she wasn't going to suddenly get any ideas.

"Can I hug you?" Sam asked hesitantly.

Sybil nodded and Sam almost crushed her with the hug. He was crying but not as much as Sybil had expected. Considering what had happened before, she thought he would have made her stop by now, but he hadn't

"Are you okay, Sam?"

"No but I will be. Just don't move. Don't touch anything."

Suddenly, Sybil broke free from his arms and got off the bed. Sam sat up on the edge of the bed confused. He watched Sybil retrieve something from her little desk. She kneeled down in front of him with a pencil and paper and started drawing.

"Hey what are you doing?" shouted Sam as he clapped his legs shut.

"I'm making a diagram," Sybil said flatly.

"You can't just go around drawing pictures of a man's fruit and veg, that's pornography!"

Sybil looked at Sam then at the drawing then at is crotch then at the drawing then back at Sam.

"Stop that!"

Sybil looked down at her drawing and tossed the notebook away. It was a stupid idea to begin with.

"It's just that I've never done a procedure this delicate without proper documentation," she said shamefully.

"I'm not a dragon!"

Sybil nervously looked up at him.

"What am I supposed to do then, grope around until you start crying? I'm not going to do that! I'm not going to put you through unnecessary distress like that when I can just be scientific about it."

Sam saw her frightened expression and looked at her with those beautiful delicate eyes. He moved so he could sit on the very edge of the bed. He leaned down and took the pencil from Sybil's hand. They were both trembling. Sam held her hand and flattened her palm. He spread his legs and hesitantly guided her to touch him.

Sam held her hand much too firmly, but Sybil didn't mind. Sam was finally allowing her to touch him out of his own free will. She tried to keep her hand as still as possible but she was shaking too much. She knew this was important to him, that one small mistake could scare him. She had to do this right the first time.

"Will you help me let go?" she asked.

Sam did. He seemed both relieved and disappointed. Sybil climbed up onto the bed.

"I need you to sit against the headboard so we're on a level plane. I was starting to lose feeling in my arm because I was reaching up."

A miniscule smile graced Sam's lips. He looked at her softly and followed her suggestion. He took Sybil's hand more gently this time and placed it. He held it there firmly, never giving her the option of moving. She wouldn't have anyway. Her heart beat madly nothing else seemed to matter except Sam. He cried but not the same violent sobs as he had before. His shuddering shoulders reflected more than just fear. In his eyes, Sybil could see hope, he wanted this so much that he had turned to faith. Samuel Vimes didn't do that sort of hogwash but right now it was all he could do to keep his eyes open. He had to see her, to know it was her. He had to see her expression, the fear and worry in her eyes. He had to know that this was scary for her too, that she knew why this was so important.

"Thank you," he whispered softly. "This is exactly how it should be."

"I don't want to ruin it. Can I let go?"

Sam allowed her to pull her hand away on her own. He didn't guide it away. He didn't have to.

"Oh, Sam, I'm sorry. Did I do it right? Are you okay?"

Sybil hugged him. Her body lay between his legs but Sam wasn't thinking of that. He was too focused on holding her tightly. He didn't want to let her go, not ever. He tried to comfort her, to tell her she had done well, but he couldn't get the words out. There were much more important words that he needed to say.

"I love you."


	11. Chapter 11

It is so hard to get rid of the smut in these. The last chapter is going to be ridiculous to write since it's supposed to be smut. Maybe I can use poetic devices, but I don't want to sound like a cheap romance novel that uses the words 'manhood', 'member', and 'entrance.' Too many similes can cheapen an otherwise genuine story. I hope my work hasn't turned out like that.

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Sam cuddled Sybil on the bed. Just touching her made his heart swell. When they were together like this, it reminded him that she was real.

"Hey Sybil, you've been oddly tolerant of me. Are you sick of it by now?"

"Not really."

"How much is not really?"

"Is this percentage wise or rate of increase? If you're talking on average, then I'm happy to be here for you. However there are times when I have spikes of impatience. I'm getting better at restraining myself though. If I focus on you then it gets easier. It was really scary touching you for the first time, but I liked doing it. There was this sparkle hidden in your eyes. It was like you were letting me touch your heart too."

Sam blushed. Sybil twirled her fingers in his hair.

"I want to see that again. Will you let me?"

"I um… okay," Sam said embarrassed.

"Do you mean it? You're not afraid?"

Sam made an indecisive sound.

"I am scared but I think I can handle it," he gave her a soft look. "You're always so gentle…"

* * *

Sam sat on the bed, shivering all over. He was tense, nervous, and maybe a little optimistic. Sybil pressed her body against his side so he could easily guide her and she could see his face closely. She gently slid her hand down his chest and stopped at the location on his stomach where he had set his limit before. She copied the movements in the places he said she could touch without his help.

"Is that right?

"Yes it is," Sam said unsteadily.

He met her eyes and kissed her cheek. Sybil leaned her head on his shoulder. She took Sam's hand. He guided her to touch him. He started to tremble as he let go. She stayed completely still. It was odd. Just touching him made her happy. She never felt like this with any of her previous boyfriends.

Sam moved so she could reach him better, but flinched when her hand shifted. Sybil grinned.

"That didn't seriously hurt did it? I barely did anything." Sybil teased.

"No… it just… nevermind."

"If you show me what I should do, I'll copy you."

Sam grabbed her hand and removed it. He placed it firmly on his stomach and held it there.

"Not… not yet. I just need to calm down."

"What helps you relax?"

Sam kissed her forehead.

"You do."

Sybil blushed and kissed his lips. They were tense but she didn't mind. His words sounded so genuine. She had wanted to believe words like that her whole life. In the aristocracy, everyone gave her complements that never meant anything, but Sam was different. He spoke so candidly as if he didn't care who he was talking to or how important they were. It was just one of the many things she loved about him.

"Now that I think about it," said Sam, "it does sound a bit contradictory."

Sybil smiled and hugged his shoulders. She looked into his eyes and saw that sparkle she had been waiting for. Sam lay flat on the bed and pulled her down beside him.

"If I let you touch me by yourself, do you promise to not hurt me?"

"I promise to be careful. But what if I make a mistake? Will you forgive me?"

"I think so… I don't know."

"Then I'll be extra careful."

Sybil looked into Sam's eyes as she passed her hand further down his stomach. She paused at the boundary he had set. Sam flinched, knowing what would happen next. After a few seconds, he nodded and let her continue. She smiled lovingly.

"This makes me so happy, Sam."

"What? Why?" he asked. He started shaking as she got closer.

"I want you to trust me. Letting me do this on my own brings me closer to you. I like being close to you. I love you."

"Say that again," Sam said, smiling brightly.

"I love you, Sam."

He kissed her gently and kept his face close to hers.

"Go," he said.

Sybil could feel his breath on her lips when he spoke. She watched his eyes sparkle as she touched him. She was delicate and slow, trying to remember everything about him. Every so often he would start shaking again. At these times she would stop moving until he nodded to her. She smiled at how much he was trusting her.

Sam made a conscious effort to release the tension in his muscles. She was touching him so gently. He focused completely on her movements. Sybil's fingers were seriously distracting.

"That feels nice," said Sam. "Will you maybe keep going?"

She kissed him and felt his breath catch. It made her want to see more. She wanted to see the pleasure on his face and find out what kinds of sounds he would make. She discretely increased the pressure and speed of her hand. His breaths quickened in result. Sybil locked her eyes on him. She imagined what his face would look like if he came. She moved more intently.

"Wait. You've got to… to stop," Sam panted even though his body obviously thought otherwise. "Don't do this… Oh but it feels amazing!"

Sam's moment of indecision made Sybil cautious. She let him go. He moved away from her fingers and sat up on the bed trying to steady himself.

"Thanks," he said. "Sorry, I got carried away. It's getting harder to stop myself around you." He looked at her genuinely ashamed of himself. "It can't just be me. That's not right."

"What if I want it to be just you?"

Sam looked at her incredulously. The idea was inconceivable to him.

"But it's not supposed to—"

Sybil kissed him and cut his words short.

"I can choose to do it this way just like that woman chose not to. I want to watch you enjoy it knowing that I'm the one making you feel this way. I want to play with you and show you I am better than her because I can do it right."

"No, I don't want you to, I mean, you don't have to…" Sam's words came out way too quickly. "It's just that, I'll be too far ahead of you. I'll come before you and I won't be able to continue and you'll be mad because I'm already causing problems and you shouldn't lose a chance because this is our honeymoon and you're supposed to have more than this but I'm being such a coward that I can't give you what you want and if I come now then I won't be able to do it again for a while and there's a limit to the amount of days the honeymoon is so if I take one all for myself then I'm cheating you out of an important part of why we're here to begin with!"

Sybil burst out laughing. She tackled Sam and rolled on top of him. Her laughter made her boobs jiggle tantalizingly.

"You're right. The honeymoon isn't long enough. It's too bad you have so much work you need to do after we get home. Now that you've retired your schedule is too jam packed for you to have sex with me. If only we had some money set aside so we could stay here longer."

Sam glared at her.

"You didn't have to say it like that."

"How about you get on your knees and let me have some fun. I'll have you make it up to me next time if it's so important to you."

"No!" he said breathlessly as horrible memories flashed through his head.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. Could you lie on your back? I want you to feel comfortable."

It was true but it definitely wasn't the only reason. Sybil had seen Sam's face and now she wanted more. She wanted to see all of the different faces that he would never let himself show to other people. She wanted to know about his immediate responses instead of the ones that show only after thinking about them. Maybe Sam could sense her ulterior motives or maybe he couldn't but he lay down anyway.

He blushed vibrantly as she moved. It was astounding what she could do with just her hands.

"I want to see you come, Sam."

"Wait! No! Um… maybe… not yet," he said indecisively. "I need to remember this."

"Huh?"

"I'm making nice memories to put beside my old ones."

"So they cancel each other out?" Sybil guessed.

"Not really. They're both still there, but it's more like they're connected. It's hard to explain. It's like a balance scale, but not anything like a balance scale because metaphors just don't cut it in this situation."

"So is that a good thing?"

"I'm not sure, but it's not bad… I think."

"Maybe I should keep going."

Sam tried to think for a moment, but his lower half was being extremely loud. He looked into her eyes and saw the love that was inexplicably aimed at him. He gave her a small smile and decided to let her love him.

"I think that will be a heavy memory to add to the good side of my insufficient metaphor."

Sybil showed him a playful smile that eclipsed all his fears. She kissed him passionately. Sam welcomed her inside and obediently surrendered his mouth to her. It was only her tongue, but still the sensation of having her inside him was intoxicating. Sam focused entirely on his wife. The anticipation was killing him. Her hands stopped touching him and once again the fear returned.

"Please don't leave me like this," he begged.

"What do you think I'll do, just get up and walk away?" said Sybil sarcastically.

Sam swallowed hard suddenly uncertain. The woman from his memories had often stopped him from being satisfied. The thought made him shiver. His face fell and he looked away from Sybil. She leaned forward, tilted his head, and kissed him. Her lips were warm and loving.

"I just needed to find the jar," Sybil said. "It was hiding under a pillow." She dipped her fingers inside to make things smoother. "No matter what, I will never walk away from you."

Sam moaned as her slick hands rubbed him with just the right amount of pressure. It was the feeling that he wanted but didn't get back then. This was how it should have gone. This time it was right simply because Sybil was the one doing it.

_It can't just be me though._

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Originally I had a scene where Sybil inspected the damage to Sam's asshole. It was a remnant of "Past the Dark" after I split it off and uploaded it to another account.

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Review?


	12. Chapter 12

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Yes, I know that bioluminescent plankton are only found in saltwater. My excuse: the lake is full of quantum.

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When Sybil entered the bathroom, all she could see of Sam was his nose and his knees poking out above the surface of the water like islands. Sybil quietly kneeled down beside the tub and watched her husband relax. She playfully splashed a wave of water over Sam's nose making him splutter and cough.

"Sorry," she said with a teasing smile.

"You could have at least warned me!"

Sam glared at her. That stare of his truly was frightening. He suddenly noticed he was using his watchman expression and looked sideways into the water apologetically. Sybil sighed, and a tiny smile graced her lips.

"Do you think I could join you?" she asked. "Or is that asking too much?"

The proposition both horrified him and delighted him. It was something he had truly wanted ever since she first suggested it. The idea of the warm water combined with her soft body was so tantalizing, but still he hesitated. His reluctance must have shown on his face, because Sybil quickly amended her request.

"I mean I'm not going to try anything! I just… thought… I don't know. I want to be close to you, but maybe it's too big of a jump."

Sybil shifted her weight and pushed down on the edge of the tub. Sam placed his hand on hers just in time to stop her from getting up. He couldn't say what he wanted because he wasn't sure what that was. She lowered her body again and looked at him kindly.

"Maybe you could stay here for a while?" Sam whispered.

Sybil pulled her hand out from under Sam's and stood up. Invisible wires wrapped themselves tightly around Sam's heart as she turned her back to him. He let his hand slide down into the bathtub again and gazed vacantly into the water. He flinched when he felt Sybil's fingers in his hair. He whipped his head around to see her. She held a bottle of shampoo and a towel.

"You'll have to dunk your head underwater," she said.

Sam's heart floated into his throat as he obeyed, the moment of rejection forgotten. He looked at her bashfully before leaning back. His shoulders shrunk up towards his neck as she poured the shampoo into his hair. People had touched his hair before but they had all used it as another handhold in a brawl. That woman grabbed it to keep his head from moving. But now, Sybil's massaging fingers completely overwhelmed all other memories. The warm water and gentle feeling of buoyancy relaxed him even more. He had never felt so peaceful in his life.

_I can watch myself, right? I did it before._

_But that was different! She wants me to just let go. I could hurt her. That's what the ropes were for._

_I can't always trust the physical. Ropes break. There will not always be a friend there to stop me from pulling the trigger. I have to do it myself._

_How the hell am I supposed to let go and watch myself at the same time? That just doesn't seem logical._

_Since when are humans logical? I want to try. I want to believe that it can happen. Maybe it can work, if only just a little bit…_

Sam sat in the tub and let Sybil's fingers play in his hair. He always cursed the fact that he had a sensitive scalp, but now it was the best thing in the world. It made him feel greedy.

"I think… I'd like you to join me," Sam whispered hesitantly.

Sybil kissed his ear and said, "I would like that a lot."

She stepped naked into the bath and sat on the edge. Sybil waited for Sam to give her the go ahead before moving any further. He was blushing vibrantly and barely breathing. He nodded his head before he had a chance to chicken out.

Sam trembled as every inch of Sybil's body was squashed against his bare skin. It was a truly incredible experience. Her breasts pushed on his chest and the pressure made them look even bigger than usual. His heart fluttered and his lungs felt much too small. The situation scared the hell out of him, but he didn't want to stop.

_Oh, her skin is so smooth._

_No, I can't trust myself this much! I'm not strong enough! It would be like shooting myself in the foot!_

_I'm trusting myself right now. That's a start._

_But I'm not doing anything right now._

_Oh really? I am definitely doing something. Those tits, I just want to squeeze them._

_No, well, okay but I have to stay in control._

Sam gave Sybil's breasts some well-deserved attention.

_It's not like I totally lose control during sex though. There's always a part of me that I set aside. It's just a lot smaller is all. I can keep in the violence. That doesn't take too much attention. The anger will be hard since there's so much of it. The fear, love, happiness, guilt, sadness, excitement, and shame are too heavy._

_I can let go of those. They don't hurt anyone but me. Sybil should be fine, but I'm still worried. I might not be able to hold back enough._

_I have an angel to help me. She's insanely talented and feels amazing if you haven't noticed. Actually this is a great place to do a dry run since I can't move. All I have to do is try my hardest not to be in control._

_This is not going to work._

_Trust me._

Sam swallowed hard. This was not going to be easy. He gave Sybil a sudden kiss on the neck. She gasped and smiled. He could feel her fingers in his hair as he kissed her again. Sybil caught his lips on the third try and poked her tongue inside experimentally. He responded roughly and reined himself back. He didn't stop himself from placing quick little kisses over her eyelids and down her nose. Sybil caught his mouth and gave him a kiss that was just as rough as the one he thought was too aggressive. Every touch was electrifying.

Sam tried letting go.

* * *

She had laid herself out before him like the sexiest banquet imaginable. She was panting hard and the look in her eyes told him she was more than ready. He tried. He really did, but even though his body wanted it, he couldn't get the tip in. He couldn't even touch it at all. He would get so close as to feel the heat, but he backed away every time.

"No, I can't do it. I can't," Sam whispered, biting back tears.

He was shaking all over and his eyes seemed to be glued shut. The expression on his face reminded Sybil of that first night when he hid in the Tan Office. He held his arms tightly as he backed away. He hunched over trying to protect his neck.

"I can't. I won't." Sam's voice quivered in fear.

"Open your eyes—"

"NO! That would only make it worse! I'd see you and… I just can't do this!"

Sam felt the burden of guilt on his shoulders. Sybil had spent so much time trying to help him. She had gone through all that frustration just for him and deserved results. He shouldn't be afraid. He knew she loved and trusted him. They both recognized their limitations and had agreed not to cross them. He knew that he wouldn't hurt her and trusted himself to stop if she asked. He let her touch him. He had already climaxed at her hand. He had shown himself to her in that state of pure vulnerability. He had done all these things yet still he hesitated.

_I shouldn't be scared anymore. What's wrong with me? Was it all just a waste of time? There's nothing stopping me. I have no more excuses. Why can't I do this?_

"Sam, it's okay—"

"No! it's not okay! There's something wrong!"

Sam took short staccato breaths that seemed to never be enough. He cried and shook his head, trying to cast out the fear like water in his ears. Nothing was missing. Everything had been done right. The only hindrance was himself.

_Maybe I'm just not capable. Maybe I shouldn't have tried at all._

"Look at me, Sam. We don't have to do this right now."

_She'll take me anyway. I should let her do it. Maybe it's best that way. I'll never be ready. It's just cold feet._

Sybil sat up, intending to comfort him, but the movement only startled him. He fell back on the past and the instincts of his younger self activated instantly. The watch was useless back then. There was no option to fight. There had never been a choice. He would lie and say all is well because he was told to. The watch was nothing but a tool to be pushed around by various Patricians.

Trapped in time by his memories, Sam ran away.

That horrible woman, his own mother, the city, Sybil, they had all owned him. He allowed himself to be transferred from one woman to the next like a commodity. A monster, a weak child, a dog of the government, a husband. He was passed around, given different names, and the worst part was that he just let it happen.

He ran out the front door and into the night down to the only place he knew. There was nowhere to run to. The ubiquitous presence of the city was gone, leaving him more naked than his lack of clothes. He stood on the pier and looked at the sky full of unfamiliar stars. Ankh-Morpork rarely had stars and these ones seemed too bright. They lit up the world, unabashedly nosing in on the night's proper level of darkness. Even the shadows weren't his anymore. Everything belonged to Sybil, the house, the grounds, and even him.

Sam finally noticed what he wasn't wearing and hid himself in the water. His redwood shrunk to a twig and berries.

Everything was so quiet now. It was like nothing existed. The goggles from that day were still hanging there on the pier. Sam strapped them to his head and went under. Water dripped in from the sides and stung his eyes. It took a while for him to figure out how to fit them properly without Sybil's help.

He dipped his head under the water again and gazed out into the black depths. Somehow he felt more comfortable here. Perhaps it was because it was so insanely different that he couldn't even compare it to the things he knew. All his fears and worries were back on the disc in a distant world.

He waded deeper into the water where the moonlight couldn't reach his body. It was like he was slowly disappearing, so detached from everything, and the water gently supported him as if it were alive.

He kept going until his feet barely touched the ground. He dunked his head under the surface and saw something astonishing, tiny ephemeral points of glimmering light suspended in the black water. They looked like stars only fainter.

He took a breath and leaned forward again. They were gone. He moved his hand through the water and disturbed the small sparks. They flowed around his fingers and moved with the current he made. They shined for a second and vanished.

Sam let his feet float off the floor of the lake. He watched the lights swirl around his hand and let the water hold him up. It was surreal.

He surfaced for air and retuned to floating in the dark unfamiliar world where he could move the stars with just a wave of his hand. The power was hypnotic. In the black silence under the water, Sam was a god. He was flying.

Sam rolled over and floated on his back. The stars glared down at him from above as if they were indignant about the imitations below. He knew that if he waved his hand at the sky then nothing would happen. His chest grew heavy as reality returned to him. He considered turning back over into the fantasy, but he couldn't. That world wasn't real. There was no one there. Under the black water, Sam knew he would always be alone. There was only one place that gave him a chance be with Sybil and that was the world with the blindingly bright stars.

He didn't deserve this happiness. But it was there. A terrifying gift of hope. This wasn't supposed to happen.

_I want it to happen. I don't want to be alone. She's so close, but I know I shouldn't be with her._

_I wish it was a lie. I want to believe that I can stay._

_It doesn't matter! Wishing never got anyone anywhere! I can't just make myself believe something that isn't true._

_When you believe, truth and lie become much the same thing. What if I'm wrong? What if I was wrong since the beginning? How would I know?_

Sam closed his eyes and blocked out the bright stars. The world made more sense in the darkness anyway.

_I'd… ask someone? No, I would… distance myself from the situation and think—_

_She lied to me._

—_about things logically…_

_She lied and even after all this time, I'm still believing her._

_It's not just her! I've seen it! I know it's true!_

_She tricked me and I believed it. The lie stayed with me. Even though she is long gone, I'm still letting her own me!_

_A witness… a testimony…_

_Witnesses are crap! I am wrong.__** I am dead wrong!**_

* * *

When Sam returned an hour later, Sybil was sitting on the porch steps. She looked up at him uncertainly.

"May I come with you?" she asked.

Sam didn't answer. Her voice sounded faint and distant to him. Sybil handed him a fluffy blue robe and took his hand. The two of them walked in stifling silence through the moonlit gardens. It could have almost been romantic.

Sam scowled and tried not to look at the sky. The light pressure of her hand on his arm felt worse than if she had broken it. His whole body felt drained, but it wasn't like the physical fatigue that he was so acquainted with. That would have been so much easier to deal with. His feet slowed until he couldn't take another step.

"What if you're wrong?" he whispered. "What if you're really not supposed to be with me?"

"Then I would leave you of course. I'm not an idiot."

Her words crushed his heart in so many ways.

"I would need solid evidence though," she said. "It's a big decision. I wouldn't take it lightly. You would have to prove to me that you are not right for me."

"But we went through this! I've killed people! How can I possibly be a good man after that?"

"That's not really what I meant. I want specific proof that me being with you is more harmful than with other men."

Sam didn't answer. There were a lot of scumbags in Ankh-Morpork.

"Who would you rather I marry?" Sybil asked. "Carrot is already taken."

"That doesn't prove anything!"

"Fine then, hit me."

"Bloody hell, Sybil, I'm not doing that!"

"Haven't you ever just wanted to give me a good kick in the gut or a punch in the teeth?"

"No! I mean, not really as such," Sam mumbled.

"Maybe there's something else that would hurt me? Have you ever wished you could just take my fortune and run?"

"No! That doesn't even make sense!"

"Well, that removes theft and assault. You could frame me for something or maybe conveniently look the other way when I'm in danger. Let's see, there's libel, fraud, kidnapping—"

"Stop! I'll never do anything like that!"

"What about rape?"

Sam went deathly quiet. She had said the words with the kind of sincerity that could never survive in the city.

_I could… I really could…_

_No, I can't…_

_Men like me…_

Sam flinched when Sybil let go of his arm. He stood paralyzed with enough crisscrossing emotions to make a rug out of. She sat down on a bench and fiddled with her hands. Sam had never seen her like this. She was always larger than life to him, a woman ready to face anything, but now she looked so small.

_It's not right! I don't belong with her!_

_I don't belong __**to**__ her. I don't belong to either of them. That woman stole my body from me. She convinced me I belonged to her. She lied._

_Sybil isn't like that! I love her! I want her to own me!_

_I choose to let her. I choose._

_I belong to her!_

_My choice. My thoughts._

_I have to… I don't… Even Sybil…_

_I chose to disobey I chose to run outside. I chose to stop. I chose to fight against the gonne. I chose to wait. I belong to me. I own myself._

_No I don't! I…_

He watched Sybil as she sat wringing her hands together. She wouldn't look at him. Sam felt the crushing pain of guilt and loss on his chest. If she didn't own him then that connection would be broken.

_I don't need it. My will is a stronger bond than ownership._

_It's not enough! There is no choice!_

_No, this is different. Back then, if the choice were there, I would have pursued it with all of my strength regardless of the pain, but her ropes took away that option. Leaving was not physically possible, but now, here with Sybil, I have the ability to walk away. I have a choice. The other option is painful but it still exists._

_But, I love Sybil. I want to be with her._

_Then I am the one who has chosen to stay. I can create new bonds. I don't need to belong to her to be close to her._

_But I want her to love me. I want her to have that power over me._

Sam took a slow hesitant step towards the most magnificent woman that ever lived.

_I choose to share myself with her._

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I love the Guarding Dark. I believe that he never fully separated himself from Sam. He just normally keeps his distance.

I love bioluminescent plankton. I seriously did not make that up. It's like an interactive version of the aurora borealis. Now that I think of it, that whole scene is would fit well into a Final Fantasy game.

There's only going to be about 2 more chapters. I have labeled the sections of the next chapter "Sad Hedge Dance". It'll make sense later. This chapter's labels were not so impressive "Bath Run Garden". I think I'll upload the smut onto a dummy account.

I love my reviewers. If you find anything wrong, please tell me.


	13. Chapter 13

This chapter was once a whole lot more emo, mostly because of the cleanliness explanation. I thought too far into his experience and had to rein myself in. I didn't want to introduce something new when Sam has gotten so far. I also didn't want to risk humanizing his attacker. I think I'll put all the unused stuff in an ancillary chapter at the end. While writing this I got an idea for a seriously depressing fic about Sybil. You know, the kind of story where the only happy ending would be death. I don't think I'm masochistic enough to write it.

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Sam had been avoiding Sybil all day. He really didn't want to have to try again. It still didn't feel right and now he was sure Sybil was getting really impatient with him. He had been so close and yet he still couldn't do it. He didn't want to think about what might happen if he messed up again.

He couldn't stop worrying so got up and walked into the garden. It really was in disrepair. The gardener must have been slacking off for at least a few months and even before that he probably only half-assed it.

Sam found a little nook between the garden shed and a hedge. The spot had been completely overgrown with vines and gnarled branches that had long since died and took the neighbors with them. It was infuriating seeing it there looking all smug and comfortable like 'who me?'

Sam would have none of that sass. He had no clue what to use here and ordinarily he would have just gone at it with his sword but that was in the house and he surely didn't want to go back in there. He grabbed a pair of gloves and something sharp-looking from the toolshed and started hacking at the dry mass of dead foliage. He tried to pull it out all at once. Unsurprisingly, it didn't work. He set about removing it piece by piece. It took longer this way but at least it was effective. He hurled each bundle of impudent kindling over a low wall and out of sight. He told himself her would move it later but he was lying.

It was hard work and cleared his mind a hell of a lot faster than Sam could clear the space. He was familiar with having pain in his muscles. When he was a watchman, there were times when the pain would be overwhelming. He wanted that back. He wanted to be able to do his job again. It was like he had lost a huge chunk of himself when he retired. He wouldn't have that comfort and sense of achievement anymore. He wouldn't be able to do any of the things he used to do.

Sam attacked the dead gnarled sticks with renewed vigor. Out here at Sybil's vacation home, he didn't even have friends to go to, or upstarts to yell at. He didn't even have any criminals to humanely subdue. He reached the end of the dead foliage but not the end of his anger. He continued to hack at the bush behind it to teach it a lesson about overstepping its bounds and making extra work for others. Stupid bush.

He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and let the bundle of branches fall to the ground. His shirt was covered in sweat and dirt and he was breathing heavily from the exertion. He didn't turn around.

Sybil pressed herself against his back, but didn't hold his hand or hug his waist. She was just there, a gentle pressure to remind him that he wasn't alone. Even when his breathing had evened out, Sam still refused to face her.

"I'm all sweaty," he said. It was a statement, an excuse, and an apology all at once.

"I know," she answered, bringer her face to his shoulder.

"I smell ba— dammit Sybil! Did you just lick me?"

Sam spun around and looked at her with a mixture of revulsion and incredulity. Sybil was not the kind of woman who giggled very often, but this was an extenuating circumstance.

"You taste surprisingly good," she said, grinning like a door to door salesman.

"What the hell? That's disgusting! I'm all dirty and you just come up behind me and give me a taste test?

"I don't know. You kind of smelled interesting and I didn't think you'd mind."

"I mind! I don't want you to smell me when I'm all gross like this!" Sam stalked towards the door. "I'm going to go clean up."

"Sorry," said Sybil, but he had already shut the door.

* * *

Sam dried himself off and donned the blue robe that he had claimed as his own. It was fluffy and warm yet still had the absorbent power that gives a bathrobe purpose. Those silky dressing gowns just stuck on his skin and got in the way. He had to go find Sybil and apologize for being so short with her in the garden.

When he opened the bathroom door, he saw Sybil on the bed playing with herself. They both froze for a second, blushing wildly. Sam slowly closed the door. Sybil dashed over.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't know you were still in there. I mean, it's been hours. I thought you had gone out somewhere."

The door opened a crack. Sybil could see Sam's beat red face grinning sheepishly back at her.

"No, it's okay," he mumbled, scrunching his shoulders to his neck, "It's just you looked… um… I know I left you like that before… and if you need me to…"

Sybil smiled and shook her head. He was just too damn cute sometimes.

"I don't want you to think I'm some sort of obligation." She got back onto the bed and leaned up against the headboard, "but I would love it if you stayed to watch."

Sam's eyes glistened as he approached her with an intentionally nonchalant gait. This situation was pleasantly unexpected.

"Do you want to dance for me?" she asked?

"Err, I don't really know how to dance," he said, swallowing hard as she started moving her fingers again. The view was entrancing.

"I'll teach you. It's pretty easy."

"Okay," Sam said slowly and cautiously.

"You just have to put your arms above your head like you're hanging on something."

Sam looked left and right to double check that no one could possibly see them before he did what she said… well sort of. It was close enough.

"Now put one hand on your wrist and trail it down your arm slowly."

Sam did so, still unsure how he felt about this.

"Go all the way down across your chest. Then do it with the other hand."

"I don't think this is a real dance."

"Of course it is," she said. "Try tracing you fingers up your thighs and squeezing your butt."

Sam blushed vibrantly and frowned in embarrassment, but complied anyway.

"Aren't women supposed to be the ones who do this?"

"These are modern times," she said panting.

Sam watched her reactions as he drew his fingers all over his body. Yes it was demeaning to be objectified like this, but that look on her face was priceless. He stopped without warning and smiled when Sybil protested. He rather liked being able to affect her like this. That woman had never taken any interest in the rest of his body. For her, it was only there as a way to tie him down or punish him. No one had ever cared about what he looked like, especially not this much.

She was so close that her eyes were barely open. Sam decided to push a little. He leaned down and breathed on her inner thigh. He grinned triumphantly as the small unexpected sensation made her moan. Controlling her like this was quite satisfying. He put his hand over hers and she let his fingers take over.

"Kiss me," she said, breathing heavily.

He lay down beside her for a kiss. As soon as he was close enough, Sybil brought her other down his chest and stopped at the predetermined point low on his stomach. He leaned into her hand and nodded lovingly. The experience was still incomplete, but she didn't mind just using her hand. It was what Sam was comfortable with. Tonight, she had his total focus without the interference of fear and doubt. They were finally sharing the kind of intimate moment that she had wanted all along.

* * *

Sybil woke in the morning with Sam beside her. He was on his side with his back to her so she hugged him from behind. He flinched when she touched him. Sybil was immediately cautious but refused to give up her bubbling joy. She bent her knees and cuddled him lovingly. She put her ear to his back and heard his lungs wheeze a little. Sybil could tell something was wrong but the best she could do was silently comfort him and wait for him to speak up. Truth be told, it wasn't hard to wait. She spent the time just holding him close. He was warm and the texture of his scar was like nothing else. She could feel it with her whole body as if it was part of her too. What if she could peel it away and transfer it to herself. She imagined what it would feel like to have the same scar running down her front. It would never work though. It was a part of him, just as beautiful as the rest. It would be wrong to take it from him even if she could.

She leaned in to see it up close and held her lips just an inch away from his skin. She felt his muscles bunch up and knew he was paying attention to every move she made. He gasped when she kissed him. She hadn't realized that he had stopped breathing. She rubbed her lips against the scar, pausing for a few kisses.

"Are you clean enough for me to lick you?" she asked.

Sam bent his shoulder blades together. She kissed him again and blew a puff of air at it, making him shiver. He shook his head.

"Will you tell me why?" she asked.

Sam rolled on his back so he could see her. This wasn't going to be easy was a gross understatement. Even the whole sleepless night did nothing to prepare him. He had to tell her. He couldn't put it off any longer. She deserved to know and in the back of his heart, Sam wanted her to know.

He pulled her over him like a blanket. He wanted to be as close as to her as possible. He had to feel safe because what he was about to tell her would leave him defenseless. It would cut his soul on the way out and he needed her help. They were both naked but Sybil knew this was far more important than sex. Sam trembled and sobbed beneath her until he abruptly went silent. Sybil didn't move. She felt his body stiffen and saw his sunken eyes go blank.

"I let myself feel it the first time," Sam muttered hoarsely. "I needed to know what that woman's sister went through because of my cowardice. In the morning, I went to go speak with her. I don't know what I would have said, but I needed something from her, a confirmation or rejection before I left. It didn't work out like that."

Sam's voice flickered between impassive and horrified as he spoke. His eyes stared right through her and he appeared not to be breathing at all.

"It was like a game to her. She wanted to control me, to make me come before her. If I outlasted her, she would reward me. She would use her mouth then yell at me for making her do it. She said I tasted sick. I was dirty, but she never gave me a chance to wash myself. She told me I would always be dirty no matter how much I bathed. I knew what I smelled like. She was right to be disgusted."

Sybil laid her head on his shoulder. The additional contact felt more important than being able to see his glassy eyes. She wouldn't admit that they scared her. The story was terrifying enough.

"Other times she would leave without finishing me. I had to do it myself. I felt guilty each time. I knew I couldn't do anything about what she did to me, but I should have been able to stop myself. I hated doing it but it was like my body was moving on its own, following her orders even when she wasn't there."

Sybil cried. She didn't want to hear this. It was too much. The thought of Sam in so much pain shot ice straight into her heart. It was nauseating to listen to, but she refused to block it out. She wanted to remember everything he was saying for fear that he would never be able to say it again.

"No matter how many times I said no, my body still disobeyed me. She could make me hard even when I didn't want it. I found that if I didn't pay attention to how it felt then I could last longer, but she wouldn't even let me do that. She did increasingly painful things to me so that I couldn't ignore her. If I lost or she was just in a bad mood, she would give me a penalty. The fire was the worst."

Sybil could feel his tears in her hair but nothing seemed to register in his voice.

"I don't think she foresaw how bad it would be. Her clothes and hair caught on fire and she ran. She left the door open. Normally when she left the room she would put shackles on me so I wouldn't move around. This time she had left me in only the ropes. I used the time she was away to get out of the knots. I had escaped even before she returned."

Sybil sobbed and her whole body shuddered. She held on to Sam with all her strength. She didn't even think that she might be hurting him. His voice had lost all emotion. It was as if he were giving a report on a crime scene. He was speaking of a different man who was murdered long ago, a man who should not have survived. His words made her wonder if the one she loved had been dead all along, a ghost that she had tricked herself into thinking was real. Images of the last few years flashed through her head and in each one, Sam was just an illusion, a dream of someone who cared for her and not her status.

"When I got away, I avoided getting at all close to women. Then I met you…"

Sam's body started to slowly relax and the life in his voice gradually returned.

"Even though your presence trampled over my resolve and made me think of those awful memories, I couldn't ignore you. When you smiled at me for the first time, everything disappeared. For one tiny instance, all I could see was you. It was a split second of condensed happiness and hope. No amount of Bearhuggers could even compare to the intoxicating feeling you gave me. The pain afterwards was excruciating, but you were worth it."

Sam lifted her head off his wet shoulder and looked into her crying eyes. His image waved in front of her like distortions in her mind. He was only a hallucination, a mirage glimmering in the distance.

Sam brought her beside him and wiped the tears out of her eyes so she could see him clearly.

"That pain follows me even now," he said. "Being near you chokes me constantly, but I don't ever want to leave. Those moments of joy have been coming more frequently."

"This can't be real." she whispered.

"I seriously don't care anymore," Sam said and kissed her with all his heart.

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I uploaded some unused scenes to a dummy account. The story is "Looking Down and Sideways." Some of these scenes were omitted from "Looking Down" because they were originally meant to tie in with "Past the Dark" which is also hosted on the same account. It's a sort of trousers of time thing that starts the same but goes onto a much less realistic tangent at about chapter 5. It was one of those things that I wrote because it wanted to be written. Sir Terry mentioned that a story sometimes writes itself. I totally understand. I also feel bad abusing his characters. It's no wonder he doesn't like fanfiction writers.


	14. Chapter 14

I lied when I said this would be the last chapter.

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Sybil held open the book of beginner's gardening and pretended to read it while she watched her husband cut back the dead foliage. She had looked up the proper tool and had asked him to trim the rest of the bushes. It worked out well for both of them. Sam got a chance to clear his thoughts and Sybil got to see him sweaty and shirtless. She had to promise not to touch him but that was a perfectly reasonable trade off.

Sam collapsed onto the lawn chair beside her. He chugged the glass of water Sybil had given him and wiped his neck with a blue hand towel.

"Why are you so afraid?" she asked. "Don't think about it. Tell me what you feel."

Sam sighed and downed the last of the water. This wasn't the first time he had wondered about his fears, but he had never really come up with a sufficient explanation. Sybil took his empty glass and went to refill it, giving her husband some time alone. Sam spent several minutes thinking about it while she was gone and quite a few more feeling about it. Feeling things is often more difficult than thinking things. Emotions are damn tricky twerps. They're kind of like cats in a way. That cute ball of fluff has claws and, by the way, have you noticed the tiger behind you?

Sybil returned with two glasses, one for her and one for him. They sat in silence, while Sybil attempted to look as uninterested as possible. Sam could see right through that but it was a nice gesture anyway.

"It's going to hurt me," he finally said. "I shouldn't do this. I will be punished." He looked at Sybil hoping for an explanation. "It sounds stupid now that I've said it out loud, but that's what my gut is telling me. My heart is being uncooperative so that's probably as close as I'm going to get right now."

"I don't know much about ink blots and sofas but I say if anyone tries to punish you for being happy, I will cut them."

Sam gave her a look of cynical bafflement. Sybil gave him a kiss of sensitive encouragement.*

"Everyone deserves happiness, especially you." Sybil said.

"Why am I so special?"

"Because, I want you to be happy too. You have double merit now."

Sam laughed at the ludicrous logic. Things didn't work like that and yet they sometimes did. Belief is a powerful thing up until the point where it isn't.

It was one of the things Sybil was good at, lies. She had grown up knowing that in upper-class society, everything was a lie to some degree. Most aristocrats got caught up in them, drawn in until they lost themselves in a world detached from reality. Sybil had seen that inevitability and had pragmatically decided to make her own set of lies beforehand. All she needed to do was pick the ones that made her the happiest. Rich people were cracked anyway, might as well enjoy it. And it worked out. She had chosen to be the crazy dragon lady that she always wanted to be. She created reality. She molded it through sheer force of will.

Sybil took the towel from Sam, dribbled some of her water on it, and handed it back to him. She watched him as he wiped his face and arms with the cool cloth.

"In a wonderful fantasy world," she said, "where you have an insane amount of money and social influence, how would you like it to go? What would have to happen in order for you to be comfortable?"

"I want the doors locked," Sam said automatically, "and the windows, locked shut with curtains, big ones firmly closed over them." He let his mouth run on without him. "Maybe an extra curtain over that for soundproofing and no one can be in the house so no one can hear us and no one knows about it and the doors have to be locked tightly and I don't want anyone coming in so there has to be something stopping them but if there are guards around who can hear us then that just defeats the purpose because I can't do it if someone might be hiding in the shadows behind me to stab me in the back and I wouldn't notice them because I'm so focused on you that if I let go then I won't be able to defend you and I know it's going to hurt."

Sam glanced at her and cursed silently at himself for rambling like an idiot. It was something a good copper never did. You weren't supposed to say what you really felt. He'd always kept his fears to himself, especially recently. The watch was growing, and until his marriage, he had been the highest ranking officer. Leaders just weren't allowed to be scared.

"So I get the feeling you don't want anyone to see us," she said. "Anything else?"

He stared intently into his empty glass.

"I also want to do it back in Ankh-Morpork," he said softly. "I feel so out of place here."

Sybil took his glass from him and set it aside so she could hold his hand.

"That could be arranged."

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* +5 intelligence and +2 agility bonus for d6 rounds!

* * *

"What if I can't do it?" Sam muttered on the coach back to Ankh-Morpork. "What if I can't make you come and you just sit there and get bored? Will it hurt? What if I'm too quick? What if I'm not big enough or I can't get it up at all? I'm going to do something wrong."

Sam pulled his hands down his face. Sybil smiled and shook her head.

"First thing, you're big enough. That's just fine. I don't really care too much. Next, if it hurts I'll tell you, but it probably won't anyway. I certainly will not get bored under any circumstance and all the other stuff is negligible because you can go slowly so the mistakes don't matter. I like slow hands anyway."

"What if I can't come and you've already and you're just waiting for me to finish and what if I don't ever finish or—"

"Oh that's the least thing you have to worry about," Sybil chuckled. "It's not like I'm going to dry up or anything. I can come twice in a row. That's fine."

Sam blinked and slowly moved just his eyes sideways to look at her.

"You can do that?"

"Sure, well not very often, but I have done it before. I figured that back then, the woman would have made you do that. The endurance training and such had to be for something."

"I don't know, maybe… She didn't tell me much and I really don't want to try and remember."

Sybil snuggled up next to him and shut her eyes. The movement of the coach was surprisingly relaxing now that they were on a well-traveled road.

"Even if that was the goal, she never would have succeeded," said Sybil sleepily. "She thought of you as a competitor. There's no way she could get relaxed enough. Now me, on the other hand, I feel more relaxed with you than with anyone else. You will, without a doubt, be able to make me come even without trying."

Sam smiled softly. "There are so many things I want to do for you," he said and leaned his head against her.

"Me too. I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet but I'm certain there will be lots of them."

Sam's grin widened. He couldn't understand Sybil at all and yet he felt she could see through his skin. He had spent his entire life trying to keep a straight face but the thought of lying to Sybil disgusted him. He wanted to feel her rummaging around in his heart, picking up bits and tossing them around the room.

He wanted her to find happiness in something he did for her. He wanted to see her smile at him.

* * *

The lighting in the room had been a little tricky. Sam felt more comfortable at night but a dark room meant that he couldn't see if anyone had snuck in and the idea of placing candles or lamps made him edgy. They were irrational fears made all the more embarrassing because he knew they were unfounded. In the end they decided on sunset.

Sam lay facing Sybil on the bed. It was all so unreal to him. The fear and happiness threatened to tear him apart but he promised himself not to cry. Crying during sex was just awkward and that was one thing he didn't need more of.

"I feel like there's someone behind me." Sam said.

Sybil looked beyond his shoulder. It was humiliating for her to humor him like that when he knew nothing was there.

"Don't worry," she said. "That's only you."

Sam let out a short laugh. It was a stupid answer to a stupid fear but hers was probably the best excuse in the situation, something to latch on to. It was a new lie to compliment the old one. If he was going to believe a lie then it might as well be a nice one. Maybe in the future he could approach the truth, but for now this was as close as he could get.

"You don't have to worry this much," said Sybil. "I mean, yes there should always be a small amount of worry just in case, but I believe that whatever happens, you can make it work. If you can't, then I'm here as backup." She scooted closer to him. "You don't have to always be strong. I can do it for you some times. Then we can switch when I need it."

Sam smiled. She was right, of course. He wasn't alone now. He closed his eyes contentedly and drew his hands lazily over her curves. Her skin was so soft. It felt nothing at all like his own. Sybil pulled him closer and pushed her chest up against him. Sam grinned. Her warm breasts were one of his favorite parts of her, closely followed by everything else about her. He nuzzled into her boobs, fondling the sides while he licked between them. It was delightful to have his whole face just smothered by that lovely squishiness.

He trailed his fingers all over her body sometimes leaving goosebumps in his wake. He left kisses up her neck and paused at her lips. She moved in and gave him a kiss that made his heart flutter. A little jolt of pure joy shot through his body as her tongue touched the inside of his mouth. The thought of what might happen when they were connected both terrified and excited him. The pleasure could overpower him. He could lose control.

_My body belongs to me. I have the power to trust myself. I can stop. I've done it before. I will watch over me._

_And I've decided to let her do the same._

Sybil's hands meandered down his back and over his scar. The damage had left his skin almost numb in some areas and hypersensitive in others. Not yet accustomed to her gentle touch, Sam took sharp breaths as she mapped out places to exploit later. He leaned into every touch and let her hands wander wherever she liked. He kissed her fingers and then her mouth. She made him feel fantastic.

"Tell me you love me," he said.

"I love you."

_I can trust myself. I can do this…_

Sam lay on top of Sybil. Every breath seemed as loud as a hurricane. The woman beneath him could not be real and yet she was there, crushing his heart with those gentle hands of hers. Sam sighed and locked his gaze on Sybil with the eyes he only showed to her. The hopeful look on her face grew into something more.

Even though she was his wife, that expression unnerved him. It mirrored his own guilty expectations of that woman from long ago. He remembered how his body reacted when that woman came into the room each day and that revolting anticipation he felt when she touched him. Sam had worn that same lustful face as his wife. It made him sick to think that he had felt any kind of pleasure from that.

He shook the memory out of his mind and tried to refocus on Sybil.

"Will you let me?" he asked hesitantly.

Sybil reached up and gave him a slow loving kiss. "Do it and don't hold back." She reassured him.

Sam trembled as he put in just the head.

_It's for Sybil. I'll do this for her._

_No, I'm doing this for us._

The fragile thought gave him courage to push a little further. Sybil sighed contentedly below him and he stopped dead. Sam's body raged at him for it, but that was nothing compared to guilt that was welling up inside him. He remembered the unwanted feelings of desire and the sound of his own voice begging her to let him come when he couldn't bear it any longer. He clamped his eyes shut as the shame flowed sluggishly down his back like leftover cooking grease.

_You're such a pansy, a little Nancy-boy! Get over it!_

_No, don't say that! I don't have to!_

_I want to. I want her so much. I love her._

_Please don't make me do this! Let me go! Stop it! No!_

_Congratulations, you've gotten the girl in bed. Do it. Look how hard you are. It's obvious you like this. _

_No, I don't! Please!_

Sam's breath shuddered in choking gasps. He collapsed onto his wife and clutched her desperately. The change in a position caused him to push further inside, but it wasn't on his mind at all. The fear had taken over him and all he wanted was to feel safe again.

"Help me," he sobbed. "I can't take it!"

He shook violently in Sybil's arms as the tears flowed freely. He tried to roll her on top of him but the strength had vanished. All his energy was spent clinging for his life onto the one person who could protect him.

"Please! It hurts!"

Sybil turned him on his back and tentatively placed herself halfway over him. He wiggled further under her. She propped herself up on her elbow so Sam could clamp his arms all the way around her and maneuvered her leg so they could stay connected for as possible. Even in his panic, Sam noticed how she was trying to stay at the step he had left her at despite his rapidly disappearing boner. She had remembered that he preferred to keep the contact just like when she touched his neck. She was honoring his choice. Just like when she had waited to ask for permission to let go of his crotch when she touched it for the first time. She didn't assume she knew him better than he knew himself.

The trust and consistency helped calm him down just as much as her warm protective body. He let his consciousness drip back to him, bringing with it the awareness of his situation and the comfort of reality that he had chosen to return to. Sybil had let him come back on his own just like when he ran away that first night in the Tan Office.

"Are you going to be okay?" Sybil asked anxiously.

Sam didn't answer right away. His breath was still ragged and his eyes wouldn't focus, but at least his muscles had relaxed. All of them.

"I'm sorry," said Sybil. "I tried to keep ahold of you, but…"

Sam stared blankly at his wife. She had tried not to change anything while he was weak. She didn't go ahead of him or assume she had to back up. He had found a woman who listened and waited. She was perfect.

"I'm sorry," Sam whispered. "I couldn't do it."

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The most important part of recovery is regaining your sense of self. You own yourself and no one can change that. This is true. It will always be true. Even when you are dead, your grave will have your name on it.


	15. Chapter 15

I really hope this is a sufficient ending…

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Now that he was back in Ankh-Morpork, Sam had places he could go and people he could talk to. Unfortunately, he had no one he wanted to explain his problems to. Sybil was the very first. Even Colon didn't know any details and he was the one who nursed Sam back to health or at least tried to.

He didn't want to admit that last night had terrified him and that he let his fears take ahold of him.

He was also mad at himself for how quickly he had lost his erection. Out of all the things he could worry about, it had to be that. He almost felt slighted that something so trivial occupied the forefront of his mind when there were so many larger concerns he could be fretting over.

Last night could have worked. He had been fine up until that point. He had been ready. It was all going so well and… He wished he could try again. Just a little longer and the fear wouldn't have mattered. Just a little longer and his body would take over where his mind couldn't. When you got down to it, he was still a man. It was a natural instinct. His body could do it all on its own. If he just stopped thinking so much, then it would just happen without his direction or control. He could trust himself, right?

_I need a drink… Getting drunk always helps me not think._

Sam held the measuring cup and made a tactical estimate based on his numerous previous trials that he had conducted in his life. This was important even more than the last time he tried this. He couldn't use dollop and swig as units of measurement anymore, but now that he needed specifics on his own tolerance for alcohol, he wished he had paid more attention to what he was drinking in the past. What kind of beer was he drinking when he managed to forget the brawl he was in five years ago? That would have been a nice benchmark.

He paused in his amateur cocktail alchemy to stare at all the little cups and carefully selected liquors. A bottle of Bearhuggers sat among them. It was the Dragon's Blood variety, one of his favorites. He nudged aside some measuring spoons and picked it up. The brown liquid sloshed around in the glass bottle.

'Favorite'. Why did he use that word? He took off the cap and the familiar scent wafted out. He poured exactly six ounces into a cup and held it in his hand. It was a pose that he had made many times before. He stared at it and waited for his body to take control and make him drink it. He waited for his hand to move by itself like he thought it always did but his hand only trembled making tiny waves appear on the surface of the alcohol. That was all his hand could do alone: shake. It looked so powerless, dead almost. He moved his fingers and watched how they obeyed him.

It was a lie, another lie that had latched on to him years ago. Anger flared in his heart. A lie. They were all lies, clinging to him in places he least expected them, hiding like beetles in the cracks of his heart. They wore paper thin disguises and passed themselves off as truths. They survived in the shadows because he never wanted to look at them. He had never gone up to them and asked what they were doing there. He was a policeman and he had just walked right past them ringing his bell and shouting that all was well when it wasn't.

He spun around and raised the glass ready to smash it into the sink. He paused, took a breath, and upturned the cup. The whiskey splashed into the sink all at once. He lowered the glass and ran it under the water. He washed and rinsed it and put it away.

Then he grabbed the bottle of Bearhuggers, stepped outside, and threw it as hard as he could. It shattered against the wall of a building across the street. Bits of glass shrapnel exploded outward and made a melodic tinkling sound on the cobbles below.

* * *

He didn't want to say it but he felt it was right somehow. He didn't want to have to rely on booze to get him through things anymore. He just wished Sybil would understand.

"I don't want to try tonight," Sam said.

"All right," she replied with a smile.

_That was easy…_

Sam stood speechless. She had just waved off something he had been worrying over for hours. He even had excuses ready.

"Are you sure?"

Sybil looked down at her hands. The talk made her uneasy and she wasn't sure how to explain what she felt without sounding insincere.

"I just don't want that stress. Don't get me wrong, I want to have sex with you but I was really scared last night. I just want to be with you. I want to know that you're still here for me. Is that okay? I don't want to ruin your momentum if you think you're ready though…"

It was a gift from whichever god had accidentally dropped it on his way out the door.

"No,no, no nonono. I am perfectly fine with calling quits for tonight."

Sybil's eyes brightened.

"Really? You're not doing this just for me are you?"

"No! I mean, yes, for you but for me too."

* * *

Sam stepped out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel. Sybil had bought him silk pajamas at one point but he always refused to wear them, opting for cotton instead. The silk felt like it could fall off at any second. He liked it on Sybil though and for the same reason, but tonight she was also wearing a ridiculous looking cap with little ruffles. Sam glanced at the window to make sure it was closed. Since no one could see them, he instinctively stayed quiet about the frilly hat that made her look like a baby.

They cuddled face to face under the covers. It was nice just touching her hands and face in silence knowing that neither of them expected anything more. Sam relaxed under the loving gaze of the one person who he could trust completely. She was there and he didn't have to perform for her. He didn't need to do anything. Somehow he was making her happy just by being there. It was a relief that this time he didn't need to worry about anything.

"Are you sure this isn't sexual?" he asked.

"I'm sure."

"Okay, just checking."

An ambiguous expression passed over Sybil's face.

"Does that mean you're checking to confirm that I hadn't suddenly changed my mind or are you asking because you want me to change my mind?"

"No, I don't want you to change anything!" Sam said. "I mean unless you want to…"

"And if I don't?"

"Then I will be quite happy."

"Happy that I changed my mind or happy that I didn't?"

"I would… um." Sam mumbled, losing track of the conversation.

"I don't want to have sex." Sybil stated.

"Okay good, me neither."

Sam closed his eyes and shifted closer to her. She was so warm.

"Sam?" she whispered hesitantly.

He grunted in reply.

"Would you maybe let me touch your balls?"

"I thought you said this wasn't sexual?"

"It isn't. I just want to touch them, that's all. I want to check something."

"I'm pretty sure that counts as sexual."

"Only if you want it to be," Sybil said, trying to justify herself.

"How can fondling my balls not be considered sexual?"

"Because I don't have the intent of doing anything else. It's not sexual. It's intimate."

Sam made an indecisive sound, but there really wasn't much to be cautious about. He liked how Sybil's hands felt. He was perfectly fine with a hand job, so even if it did escalate, there wouldn't be any problems.

"All right."

Sybil nuzzled under his chin and dropped her hand.

"So, um… how are they?"

It seemed a silly question to ask, but what else was he going to say? Sybil wiggled her fingers with a look of contemplation on her face.

"They're very nice, good proportions. They've got a good sway to them."

"Um, that's good then…"

Sam blushed. He kept on expecting her to touch the rest but she didn't. Somehow that was even more awkward.

"They're surprisingly pliant for something made of solid steel," said Sybil playfully.

The laughter could not be suppressed. Sam blushed bright red and smiled ear to ear.

"I expected them to make a click clack sound when they moved."

He saw his wife's cheeky grin kissed her. He was the luckiest man on the disk. Sybil withdrew her hand and hugged him.

"I love it when you smile like that," she said.

* * *

Sam stared at the ceiling. It was the middle of the night and he desperately needed to pee but Sybil was holding on to him. He slowly carefully inched away from her grasp and out of bed. Every sound he made was seemed louder than a foghorn.

When he returned to bed, the mattress creaked and he halted. Sybil slept on. Sam held his breath, slid himself next to her, and gently repositioned her arm around him. He was wide awake but that wasn't so bad. He felt peaceful, lying beside her with no obligations, just her warm body against his. He gingerly pulled the blanket down, exposing her shoulder and chest. She was perfect. Just looking at her made his heart ache. He placed his hand lightly on her shoulder. He would never get tired of her softness. It seemed to stick to him, not letting him pull away. He shifted closer to her, careful not to make a sound. He was so worried about moving against her skin where she could feel him, but his desires won to some degree. He was touching her but he was also completely still so he wouldn't risk waking her. In his mind, he focused on every point of contact.

He gazed at her sleeping face and her irresistible lips. He leaned forward, just a taste, that was all. Sam's heart beat rapidly. He had to admit he wanted so much more than just a kiss. He brushed his lips against hers and was shocked to feel her kiss him in return. He let her into his mouth freely.

"You were awake?" Sam accused when they separated.

"I wanted to know what you would do, but it was torture to stay still that long. When you kissed me I just couldn't resist."

Sybil lightly placed her lips against his so they were barely touching. Sam moved in and took control of her hypnotic kisses. He wanted more. He wanted to feel her soft skin directly and hear her heartbeat. He moved his hand down her leg and slipped it under her nightgown. He brought his hand back up, sliding the fabric off her skin. She helped him take it off. He caressed her beautiful curves and glued himself to her mouth. She dipped her hand under the hem of his shirt and caressed the scar on his back up to his shoulder. It gave him chills, but he didn't want to stop her.

He put his hands above his head and saw her eyes sparkle as she drew the shirt off his arms. She oddly left the sleeves around his wrists so he had to pull them off by himself. It gave her time to take over his chest and sensitive sides.

_Her hands. Oh, her hands._

"Can we… I want to try again." Sam whispered.

Sybil rolled him on top of her and pushed down the waist of his trousers. As he shuffled them off, he noticed how tight they had been. Sybil kissed him passionately and spread her legs for him. This was where he had messed up before, but this time he was ready. He looked at her and she nodded.

"Do you still love me?" he asked as he positioned himself.

"I do."

Sam smiled and slipped inside. The feeling was overpowering. Somehow he felt safe inside her where no one else could touch him. He pushed in as far as he could go and hid there. She clung to him and held him inside. She was protecting him. You can't have more than one dick and his was occupied at the moment.

_I will watch myself. I can do this. She's here for me._

He moved slowly at first as if he didn't expect it to work. The sensation hit him like a waterfall.

_Oh gods, she feels so good!_

The guilt seethed, filling his chest with acid.

_Well, that's peachy, but you're not good enough! You're filthy! You're just like those men! You'd take anyone now that you're all riled up. Dirty bastard! Look how hard you are! Don't you have any shame?_

_No! I'm not like that! I want to do this for me!_

_You selfish little shit! You think you're opinion matters? You're a worthless drunkard! Get back on the streets! You belong in the gutter!_

_No! I belong to myself! I own this body! I get to choose!_

Sam felt a warm pressure on his cheeks. Sybil's hands gently pulled him forward until all he could see was her kind face. She slid her fingers through his hair. Her lips brushed lightly against his and the voice from the past started to fade.

"Keep going," she said softly. "You feel really good."

"Do I really?"

"Oh yes. Better than I imagined."

Sam pulled out a mundane concern that paled in comparison to all his other fears, yet remained frustratingly prominent.

"And I'm big enough?"

Sybil smiled at him and touched his bottom lip. "You are."

Sam kissed the tip of her finger and let her smile wash away his darkness in her inexplicable way.

"Comparatively?"

Sybil chuckled. "You really want to know?"

Sam nodded.

"You're average length and a smidge thicker. Of course this is the aristocracy we're talking about here, and the sample size isn't enough to make any reliable statistics. What I can say without a doubt is that you feel amazing."

Sam gazed down at his angel and smiled lovingly. He received a kiss in return.

_This skill is mine. This body is mine. These thoughts are mine. I don't know how valuable they are, but right now I want to share them with her because __**I**__ feel it's right. I give myself to her because I am mine to give and this is how I want to show my love. I trust her to keep me safe and even if she turns out like the other, I will still belong to me._

_This is my choice._

Sam increased the pressure of the kiss and started to move again. There was such gratitude in his eyes.

"I love you, Sybil. I love you so much."

She was the most important part of his life. He wanted to know what it felt like for her to fill his world completely. He wanted everything else to disappear.

He chose to do just that.

In this place and at this time, Sam chose to let Sybil fill him with her presence and love. She was all that mattered and nothing else existed. He let go of his fears and misplaced inhibitions and focused on Sybil with all his mind, heart, and body. He let her take everything and he gave everything to her willingly, knowing that he didn't have to. She never forced him. She just let him finally take what he'd always wanted his entire life.

* * *

Sam was unusually quiet the next day which made Sybil edgy. She went over last night in her mind for the thousandth time that morning. There were so many things that could have tipped him off. She felt sleazy because the thing that was worrying her the most was the prospect that it would never happen again.

She found him sitting on the front steps staring out into the street. She followed his line of sight to an innocuous brick wall and shrugged.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

Sam scooted over so Sybil could sit down, but he continued to look at the building. Sybil waited for him to say something. Maybe he wanted her to apologize.

"I'm not going to order an assassin." Sam said sternly.

Sybil was secretly displeased about this, but at least it was an answer.

"I guess you don't know her name so it would be hard to track her down without giving away uncomfortable details."

"True, but that's not why," he said and propped his chin on his hands.

Sybil leaned back and looked at the overcast sky. She had a good idea about his reasons, but a primal part of her still wanted to see that woman screaming in the palace scorpion pit.

"With the kind of lifestyle she was living, it wouldn't surprise me if she's already dead."

"Yes, that too," said Sam, "but there's a bigger reason. I feel like if I send an assassin then she wins somehow. I've never actually murdered anyone unless it was necessary. Ordering an assassination would be just the same. And killing her won't do anything anyway. She will still have power over me even if she's dead. She won't go away as long as I remember her."

Sybil gently turned his head so she could meet his eyes.

"You can remember her without giving her that power."

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked. "I've been trying to forget for so long."

"You can't forget, Sam. That was a big part of your life. You can't just cut that piece of yourself away and pretend it doesn't exist. Seriously, that piece is you and you are not the kind of man who can be ignored. That piece of you is probably mad as hell that you've been snubbing him all this time."

Sam didn't know how to respond to that so he didn't.

"Anyway," said Sybil, standing up and straightening her dress. "Even if she is still alive then she's probably scared witless every day knowing how powerful you are right now. The threat of exposure must be maddening."

"That's a nice thought," said Sam, following her back inside, "but I don't want to live my life even bothering to think about her. I couldn't care less how she feels about me. I'm not going to give her any reverence whatsoever. Her skills are mine now. I can use them however I want. Well, I'm not ready to go down on you just yet, but I might be able to do it at some point."

Sam glanced over at his wife. Her eyes were practically glowing.

"I said no."

"All right," Sybil pouted. "I promise not to try it on you either unless you ask."

Sam sighed in relief. Sybil had assumed a boundary that he had not specified, and normally that would have annoyed him, but this was different. She had made a promise but still left him in control because he could ask.

"Wait does that mean if I asked you right now then…"

"No," she said, "because I know that you prefer to bathe first." She smiled slyly at him. "I'm not sure yet what I would do afterwards though."

Sam blushed and buried his neck in his shoulders, grateful that they weren't still outside.

"Please don't," he squeaked.

Sybil gave his nose a flick of her tongue.

"Don't worry, there's quite a lot of you left to taste."

* * *

_I belong to me. I choose to belong to Sybil too._

* * *

A cold wind wound through the alleys and tilted the rain. In the dark foggy city, a woman stood in the shadows. The bars had always been so easy to wiggle through, but now they encroached upon her, shooting up through the ground and forcing her to watch her every step. That bastard had seen her. He had followed her, but she thrived in the shadows. She was unstoppable.

The woman sneered impudently at a man in a black leather cloak. She knew he was all bark and no bite, a frail pathetic worm that came out in the rain just to be kicked away. He was a drunkard playing pretend with his scruffy little helmet and broken chainmail.

"You've come to slap my wrist again, bad boy? When will you ever learn?"

"You've taught me a great many things, but I've found something that is worth further consideration."

The Watchman allowed himself a faint smile as he produced a darkened lantern. It was old and nothing but a tenuous shadow of reality. Beaten out of proportion, the door had been sealed shut, but now the Guarding Dark had been given the right tool, a beautiful glittering crowbar that would not take no for an answer. He pried open the rusty lantern door and watched as the woman fled from the orange light inside.

The Watchman turned the gem-studded crowbar over in his hands. That sort of elegance looked so out of place here in his city, yet despite its fragile appearance, it was still a length of solid iron capable of kneecapping a troll. The Guarding Dark chuckled, a grin spreading across his face.

"Imagine how strong I will become."

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_._

Did I mention how much I love the Guarding Dark?

The next chapter is just a few depressing alternate versions of the chapter where Sam explains everything. It's not actually part of the story, because it would have complicated things too much.

Thank you for reading.


	16. Ancillaries

**Ancillaries**

These are bits of the story that didn't make it. The first one I cut because I felt like it. The rest have continuity flaws and aren't really edited for ease of reading or comprehension. I just wrote them and ran them through spell check.

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* * *

**And the moral of this story is…**

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Sam gained a lot of power when he married Sybil, enough to make a serious impact on the world if he chose to use it, but he knew that no amount of money could change how people thought. Sam had always been able to see the falsehoods in reality. He chose which lies are better followed than ignored, but never forgot they were lies.

All Sybil did was give him a chance to realize that he had complete power over himself. The bottle was just a bottle and the beast was just a beast.

He took control. He fought the titles, the feathers. He fought against unmerited authority. He fought for his own laws, for what he knew was right.

He would allow only the trusted to share his thoughts and to see into his heart. So when Captain Carrot saw him in that blue shawl with ducks on it, Sam didn't mind too much, because time and time again he had proven he could trust him with all that and more. Sally on the other hand was going to regret it.

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* * *

**Kick the dog... more**

This is the original version. I had to change it because it caused too many problems no matter what I did. Now it doesn't make sense. I also didn't want to torture Vimes like this. There are already fics out there that describe brutal torture to characters and I didn't want this one to be like that. 'Looking Down' is about recovery and moving on, not the trauma itself. I wanted the story to be relatable to everyone. People fear things just as strongly even when it doesn't originate from something horrifyingly inhumane.

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Sam left the bathroom in the blue robe that he had claimed as his own. It was fluffy and warm yet still had the absorbent power that gives a bathrobe purpose. Those silky dressing gowns just stuck on his skin and got in the way. He had to go find Sybil and explain to her why he had been so short with her in the garden. This wasn't going to be easy but she deserved to know. In the back of his heart, Sam wanted her to know.

"The sound of the springs. Even in my own bed I can hear them. Every night since then I would lie down in my bunk and hear the whine of those springs, a daily reminder of how worthless I am. I couldn't relax at night. My muscles were always tight as I lay perfectly still. If I moved at all, I would hear that noise. I would stay awake until I couldn't stand. Even passing out drunk in the street was better than sleeping in my bed. I was trash, subhuman, ashamed to sleep on a proper bed, afraid of what might happen if I heard the screech of coils again."

"In that room, the air suffocated me. The stench, I was dirty, covered in sweat and my own cum."

"At first it wasn't that bad. She just held me down and yelled at me. After that, I had to learn how to satisfy her without coming myself…" Sam went silent for a long time. He shivered and clutched Sybil. The next words were barely recognizable. "The next time she did it, she didn't give me a sonky."

"I tried so hard not to come inside her. No matter how many times I said no, my body still disobeyed me. She could make me hard even when I didn't want it. I was desperate, so much that I eagerly learned every technique she taught me in attempt to please her before I reached my breaking point. Even so, there were times that I failed."

"I could have a child out there somewhere growing up with that horrible woman and I don't even know its name or even if it's alive! There's even the possibility that it never existed at all."

"I was afraid. I tried to ignore it. I tried to forget, but I had to see her, to know. I wanted my child."

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Possibilities:

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"I went looking for her. Six months later I found her. She was skinny. She killed it."

"I went looking for her. I found her dead, my baby cold inside her.''

"I went looking for her. I never saw her again. I never found my baby."

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* * *

**Choosing to move the stars**

This is the depressing story that I thought up while writing the previous depressing story. I cut it out because of how depressing it was and I really didn't want to pull that sort of thing out on my readers. I also couldn't bear to keep writing it. It would have fit well into the angst category though…

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Sybil sobbed and her whole body shuddered. She held on to Sam with all her strength. She didn't even think that she might be hurting him. His voice had lost all emotion. It was as if he were giving a report on a crime scene. He was speaking of a different man who was murdered long ago, a man who should not have survived. Sybil felt him slipping away. His words made her believe that the man she loved had been dead all along, a ghost that she had tricked herself into thinking was real. Images of the last few years flashed through her head. In each one, Sam wasn't real. He was just a crazy hallucination dreamed up from her tacky romance novels. The sycophants in the aristocracy just went along with it because she was rich. They laughed behind her back not because she was marrying a common watchman, but because she planned an elaborate wedding for a man who didn't exist.

He always ran off during important events. He didn't like to be seen by her friends. She had imagined him to be weak so she would have control over him. She made him only use his fingers because she was just playing with herself. He cried for her when she wanted to cry. She made him run away because she couldn't take it. It was all an illusion, a lie that she had made herself believe the dream that there was anyone who cared for her and not her status.

The watch came around to her house just to check on the crazy dragon lady. They reported to him to keep her happy. They humored her because she had helped the economy by organizing a big wedding. No one wanted to tell her she was wrong because then they wouldn't get paid. It was all about money. It had always been like that. The man she loved had been dead for years. Maybe he had never existed at all.

"When I got away, I avoided getting at all close to women or anyone for that matter. Then I met you…"

No, he never got away. They never met. It was all in her head.

"Even though your presence trampled over my resolve and made me think of those awful memories, I couldn't ignore you. When you smiled at me for the first time, everything disappeared. For one tiny instance, all I could see was you. It was a split second of condensed happiness and hope. No amount of bearhuggers could even compare to the intoxicating feeling you gave me. The pain afterwards was excruciating, but you were worth it."

Sam lifted her head off his wet shoulder and looked into her crying eyes. His image waved in front of her like distortions in her mind. He was only an illusion, a mirage glimmering in the distance.

"That pain follows me even now. Being near you chokes me constantly, but I don't ever want to leave. Those moments of joy have been coming more frequently."

Sam wiped the tears out of her eyes so that she could see him clearly for the first time in years. She stared at him and cried.

Just a pillow, dirty and worn.

Sybil held him tightly and tried to forget what deep down she had always known. She squeezed her eyes shut and struggled back into the dream.

"I love you," he whispered.

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When Carrot was made a captain, he visited Sybil and declared that 'Samuel Vimes' had been promoted. She was so happy. Now she would be a duchess. Carrot knew it was a cruel thing to do, but he couldn't tell her the truth. He felt responsible now that he had taken the position. He wanted to keep coming to see her. He liked how she always smiled when he made his reports to 'Captain Vimes.'

When she was taken to Uberwald, Carrot chased her. He didn't tell her the real reason why she had been escorted there. He simply said that he was following the one he loved. He let her fill in the blanks by herself. He always liked how her stories clicked into place with real events. Sometimes he could almost forget that they didn't happen. He wanted to be part of her world. He wanted her to see him and smile like she did for 'Samuel Vimes.'

In his heart, he knew it would never happen.

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* * *

**The woman**

I took care to dehumanize Sam's attacker while keeping her realistic. I never described how she looked. I never gave her dialogue. The aggressive thoughts in Sam's head are not quotes but rather Sam's lies opposing him. I wanted the woman to come out as similar to Teatime in that she had no remorse and an almost childlike mentality but more motivated by anger. Her anger isn't just from her sister's death.

I couldn't send Sam on a quest for vengeance. I didn't want to give her any remaining power over him. Revenge would keep her alive in Sam's mind. She would become a target, a goal to strive towards. She would stay in his life and I just couldn't do such a mean thing to him.

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End file.
